Skip to main content

Full text of "Unveiling a parallel : a romance"

See other formats 


A-ROA\ANCEL^- 


Omii^s  nwmuv  ef  i^iafx  acfucr  (ixla. 
Umuv  inicrram.  -z^'B^^:  ca^.)^ . 


' 

EX  LIBRIS 
William  Harry  Tiopkins 

PERKINS  LIBRARY 

Uu  Ke   U  ni verslty 


Kare  Dooks 


Unveiling  a 


Parallel. 


"iVt  West 


COPYKIGHT     1893, 

BY 

ARENA  rUBLISIlING  COMTANV, 


All  rights  reserved. 


^Rren^Pre^ 


U  ^1 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

Chaptkr         I.  A  Remakkahlk  Acquaintance        .            :> 

"  II.     A  "Woman 28 

"           in.  Tiiic  AcitouAs'  Annual    ...         59 

"  IV.     Elodia 88 

"             V.  The  Vaporizer        ....         lOG 

"            VI.  Cupid's  Gardens          ....    124 

"  VII.     New  Friends 147 

VIII.  A  Talk  With  Elodia         .        .        .157 

"            IX.  Journeying  Upward       .        .        .         IDO 

"  X.     The  Master 220 

"              XI.  A  Co.MPARISON             ....          248 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2010  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


http://www.archive.org/details/unveilingparalleOOjone 


(Tbaptcr  U 

A    REMAKKABLK    ACQUAINTAJSTCE. 

"A  new  person  is  to  me  always  a  great  event,  and 
hinders  me  from  sleep." — Emerson. 

You  know  how  certain  kinds  of  music 
will  beat  everything  out  of  your  conscious- 
ness except  a  wild  delirium  of  joy;  how 
love  of  a  woman  will  take  up  every  cranny 
of  space  in  your  being, —  and  fill  the  uni- 
verse beside, —  so  that  people  who  are  not 
en  rapport  with  the  strains  that  delight  you, 
or  with  the  beauty  that  enthralls  you,  seem 
pitiable  creatures,  not  in  touch  with  the 
Divine  Harmon}^,  with  Stii^i-eme  Lovehness. 

So  it  was  with  me,  when  I  set  my  feet  on 
Mars !  My  soul  leaped  to  its  highest  altitude 
and  I  had  but  one  vast  thought, — "I have 
triumphed;  I  am  here!  And  I  am  alone; 
Earth  is  unconscious  of  the  ghjry  that  is 
mine ! " 


6  'Cinvcllino  a  iparallel. 

I  shall  iu)t  weary  you  with  an  account  of 
my  voyage,  since  you  are  more  interested 
in  the  story  of  my  sojourn  on  the  red  planet 
than  in  the  manner  of  my  getting  there. 

It  is  not  literally  red,  by  the  way;  that 
which  makes  it  appear  so  at  this  distance  is 
its  atmosphere, — its  "skj-," —  which  is  of  a 
soft  roseate  color,  instead  of  being  blue 
like  ours.     It  is  as  beautiful  as  a  blush. 

I  Avill  just  say,  that  the  time  consumed  in 
making  the  journey  was  incredibly  brief. 
Having  launched  my  aeroplane  on  the  cur- 
rent of  attraction  which  flows  uninterrupt- 
edly between  this  world  and  that,  traveling- 
was  as  swift  as  thought.  My  impression  is 
that  my  speed  was  constantly  accelerated 
until  I  neared  my  journey's  end,  when  the 
planet's  piuk  envelop  interposed  its  soft  re- 
sistance to  prevent  a  destructive  landing. 

I  settled  down  as  gently  as  a  dove  alights, 
and  the  sensation  .was  the  most  ecstatic  I 
have  ever  experienced. 

A\nicn  I  could  distinguish  trees,  flowers, 
green  fields,  streams  of  water,  and  people 
moving  about  in  the  streets  of  a  beautiful 
city,  it  was  as  if  some  hitherto  imsuspected 


TUnvciling  a  iparallel.  7 

chambers  of  my  soul  were  flung  open  to  let 
in  now  tides  of  feeling. 

IVIy  coming  had  been  discovered.  A  col- 
lege of  astronomers  in  an  observatory  which 
stands  on  an  elevation  just  outside  the  city, 
had  their  great  telescope  directed  toward 
the  Earth, —  just  as  our  telescopes  were  di- 
rected to  Mai's  at  that  time, —  and  they  saw 
me  and  made  me  out  when  I  was  yet  a  great 
way  off. 

They  were  able  to  determine  the  exact 
spot  whereon  I  would  land,  al^out  a  mile 
distant  from  the  o])servatory,  and  repaired 
thither  with  all  possible  speed, —  and  they 
have  very  perfect  means  of  locomotion, 
superior  even  to  our  electrical  contrivances. 

Before  I  had  time  to  look  about  me,  I 
found  myself  surrounded,  and  unmistak- 
ably friendly  hands  outheld  to  welcome  me. 

Thei'e  were  eight  or  ten  of  the  astrono- 
mers,—  some  young,  some  middle-aged,  and 
one  or  two  elderly  men.  All  of  them,  in- 
cluding the  youngest,  who  had  not  even  the 
dawai  of  a  beard  upon  his  chin,  and  the  old- 
est, whose  hair  was  silky  white,  were  strik- 
ingly    handsome.         Their    features    were 


8  TUnvcillnfi  a  iParallcl. 

extraordinarily  mobile  and  expressive.  I 
never  saw  a  more  lively  interest  manifest  on 
mortal  conntenances  than  appeared  on 
theirs,  as  they  bent  their  glances  npon  me. 
But  their  curiosity  was  tempered  by  a 
dignified  courtesy  and  self-respect. 

They  spoke,  but  of  course  I  could  not 
understand  their  words,  though  it  was  easy 
enough  to  interpret  the  tones  of  their  voices, 
their  manner,  and  their  graceful  gestures. 
I  set  them  doAvn  for  a  people  who  had 
attained  to  a  high  state  of  culture  and  good- 
breeding. 

I  suddenly  felt  myself  growing  faint,  for, 
although  I  had  not  fasted  long,  a  journey 
such  as  I  had  just  accomplished  is  exhaust- 
ing. 

N^ear  by  stood  a  beautifid  tree  on  which 
there  was  ripe  fruit.  Some  one  instantly 
interpreted  the  glance  I  involuntarily  di- 
rected to  it,  and  plucked  a  cluster  of  the 
large  rich  berries  and  gave  them  to  me,  first 
putting  one  in  his  own  mouth  to  show  me 
that  it  was  a  safe  experiment. 

Wliile  I  ate, —  I  found  the  fruit  exceed- 
ingly refreshing, —  the   company  conferred 


Tllnvdlinfi  a  iparallel.  9 

together,  and  presently  one  of  the  younger 
men  approached  and  took  me  gently  by  the 
arm  and  Avalked  me  away  toward  the  city. 
The  others  followed  ns. 

We  had  not  to  go  farther  than  the  first 
suburb.  My  companion,  whom  tbey  called 
Severnius,  turned  into  a  beautiful  park,  or 
grove,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  a  superb 
mansion  built  of  dazzling  white  stone.  His 
friends  w^aved  us  farewells  Avith  their  hands, 
—  we  responding  in  like  manner, —  and  pro- 
ceeded on  down  the  street. 

I  learned  afterwards  that  the  j)ark  was 
laid  out  with  scientific  precision.  But  the 
design  was  intricate,  and  required  study  to 
follow  the  curves  and  angles.  It  seemed  to 
me  then  like  an  exquisite  mood  of  nature. 

The  trees  were  of  rare  and  beautiful  var- 
ieties, and  the  shrubbeiy  of  the  choicest. 
The  flowers,  whose  colors  could  not  declare 
themselves, —  it  being  night, —  fulfilled  tbeir 
other  delightful  function  and  tinctured  the 
balmy  air  with  sweet  odors. 

Paths  were  threaded  like  Avhite  i-ibbons 
through  the  thick  greensward. 

As   we   walked   toward    tlic    mansion,    I 


10  TIlnvdHno  «  iParallcl. 

stoi3ped  suddenly  to  listen  to  a  most  mu- 
sical and  familiar  and  welcome  sound, —  the 
plash  of  water.  My  companion  divined  my 
thought.  We  turned  aside,  and  a  few  steps 
brought  us  to  a  marble  fountain.  It  was  in 
the  form  of  a  chaste  and  lovely  female  fig- 
ure, from  whose  chiseled  fingers  a  shower 
of  glittering  drops  continually  poured.  Se- 
vernius  took  an  alabaster  cup  from  the  base 
of  the  statue,  filled  it,  and  offered  me  a 
drink.  The  water  was  sparkling  and  in- 
tensely cold,  and  had  the  suggestion  rather 
than  the  fact  of  sweetness. 

"Delicious ! "  I  exclaimed.  He  understood 
me,  for  he  smiled  and  nodded  his  head,  a 
gesture  which  seemed  to  say,  "  It  gives  me 
23leasure  to  know  that  you  find  it  good." 
I  could  not  conceive  of  his  expressing  him- 
self in  any  other  than  the  politest  manner. 

We  proceeded  into  the  house.  How  shall 
I  describe  that  house?  Imagine  a  place 
which  responds  fully  to  every  need  of  the 
highest  culture  and  taste,  without  l)urden- 
ing  the  senses  with  oppressive  luxury,  and 
you  have  it!  In  a  word,  it  was  an  ideal 
house  and  home.     Both  outside  and  inside. 


Illnvcirinij  a  parallel.  11 

white  predominated.  But  here  and  tliere 
were  bits  of  color  tlie  most  brilHant,  hke 
jewels.  I  found  that  I  had  never  under- 
stood the  law  of  contrast,  or  of  economy  in 
art ;  I  knew  nothing  of  "  values,"  or  of  re- 
lationships in  this  wonderful  realm,  of  which 
it  may  be  truly  said,  "Fools  rush  in  where 
angels  fear  to  tread." 

I  learned  subsequently  that  all  Marsians 
of  taste  are  sparing  of  rich  colors,  as  we  are 
of  gems,  though  certain  classes  mdulge 
in  extravagant  and  gaudy  displays,  recog- 
nizing no  law  but  that  which  pemiits  them 
to  have  and  to  do  whatsoever  they  like. 

I  immediately  discovered  that  tAvo  lead- 
ing ideas  were  carried  out  in  this  house; 
massiveness  and  delicacy.  There  was  ex- 
treme solidity  in  everything  which  had  a 
right  to  be  solid  and  stable;  as  the  walls, 
and  the  sujiporting  pillars,  the  staircases, 
the  polished  floors,  and  some  pieces  of 
stationary  furniture,  and  the  statuaiy, — 
the  latter  not  too  abundant.  Each  piece  of 
statuary,  by  the  way,  had  some  special  rea- 
son for  being  where  it  was;  either  it  served 
some  practical  purpose,  or  it  helped  to  carry 


12  'dnvciling  a  parallel. 

out  a  poetical  idea, —  so  that  one  was  never 
taken  aback  as  by  an  incongruity. 

Some  of  the  flooi's  were  of  marble,  in  ex- 
quisite mosaic-work,  and  others  were  of 
wood  richly  inlaid.  The  carpets  were 
beautiful,  but  they  were  used  sparingly. 
AVhen  we  sat  down  in  a  room  a  servant  usu- 
ally brought  a  rug  or  a  cushion  for  our  feet. 
And  Avhen  we  went  out  under  the  trees  they 
spread  carpets  on  the  grass  and  put  pillows 
on  the  rustic  seats. 

The  decorations  inside  the  house  were 
the  most  airy  and  graceful  imaginable. 
The  frescoes  were  like  clouds  penetrated 
by  the  rarest  tints, —  colors  idealized, —  cun- 
ningly wrought  into  surpassingly  lovely  pic- 
tures, which  did  not  at  once  declare  the 
artist's  intention,  but  had  to  be  studied. 
They  were  not  only  an  indulgence  to  the 
eye,  but  a  charming  occupation  for  the 
thoughts.  In  fact,  ahnost  everything  about 
the  place  appealed  to  the  higher  faculties  as 
well  as  to  the  senses. 

There  comes  to  us,  from  time  to  time,  a 
feeling  of  disenchantment  toward  almost 
everything  life  has  to  offer  us.     It   never 


TUnvciUng  a  parallel.  13 

came  to  me  with  respect  to  Severn  ins' 
house.  It  had  for  me  an  mterest  and  a 
fascination  which  I  was  never  able  to  dis- 
sect, any  more  than  you  would  be  able  to 
dissect  the  charm  of  the  woman  you  love. 

With  all  its  fine  artistic  elaborations,  there 
was  a  simplicity  about  it  which  made  it  pos- 
sible for  the  smallest  nature  to  measure  its 
capacity  there,  as  well  as  the  greatest.  The 
2)roper  sort  of  a  yardstick  for  all  uses  has 
inch-marks. 

Severnius  took  me  upstairs  and  placed  a 
suite  of  rooms  at  my  command,  and  indi- 
cated to  me  that  he  supposed  I  needed  rest, 
which  I  did  sorely.  But  I  could  not  lie 
down  until  I  had  explored  my  territory. 

The  room  into  which  I  had  been  ushered, 
and  where  Severnius  left  me,  closing  the 
noiseless  door  behind  him,  looked  to  me 
like  a  pretty  woman's  boudoir,  —  almost 
everything  in  it  being  of  a  light  and  del- 
icate color.  The  walls  were  cream-tinted, 
with  a  deep  frieze  of  a  little  darker  shade,  re- 
lieved by  pale  green  and  brown  decorations. 
The  wood  Avork  was  done  in  white  enamel 
paint.      The    ceiling    was    sprinkled    with 


14  Tanreilitm  a  parallel. 

silver  stars.  Two  or  three  exquisite 
water-colors  were  framed  in  silver,  and  the 
andirons,  tongs  and  shovel,  and  the  fender 
round  the  fire-place,  and  even  the  bedstead, 
were  silver-jolated. 

The  bed,  which  stood  in  an  alcove,  was 
curtained  with  silk,  and  had  delicacies  of 
lace  also,  as  fine  and  subtle  as  Arachne's 
web.  The  table  and  a  few  of  the  chairs 
looked  like  our  spindle-legged  Chippendale 
things.  And  two  or  three  large  rugs  might 
have  been  of  Persian  lamb's  w^ool.  A  lux- 
urious couch  was  placed  across  one  corner 
of  the  room  and  piled  with  down  cushions. 
An  immense  easy  chair,  or  lounging  chair, 
stood  oj^posite. 

The  dressing  table,  of  a  peculiarly  beauti- 
ful cream-colored  w^ood,  was  prettily  littered 
with  toilet  articles  in  carved  ivory  or  silver 
mountings.  Above  it  hung  a  large  mirror. 
There  was  a  set  of  shelves  for  books  and 
bric-a-brac;  a  porphyiy  lamp-stand  with  a 
lamp  dressed  in  an  exquisite  pale-green 
shade;  a  chiffonier  of  marquetry. 

The  mantel  ornaments  were  vases  of  fine 
pottery  and  marble  statuettes.     A  musical 


"ClnvciUim  a  iparallel.  1-^ 

iiistniment  lay  on  a  low  bamboo  stand.  I 
could  not  play  upon  it,  but  the  strings  re- 
sponded sweetly  to  the  touch. 

A  little  investigation  revealed  a  luxurious 
bath-room.  I  felt  the  need  of  a  bath,  and 
turned  on  the  water  and  plunged  in.  As  I 
finished,  a  clock  somewhere  chmied  the 
hour  of  midnight. 

Before  lying  down,  I  put  by  the  window 
draperies  and  looked  out.  I  was  amazed 
at  the  extreme  splendor  of  the  familiar  con- 
stellations. Owing  to  the  peculiarity  of  the 
atmosphere  of  ]\Iars,  the  night  there  is  al- 
most as  luminous  as  our  day.  Every  star 
stood  out,  not  a  mere  twinkling  eye,  or 
little  flat,  silver  disk,  but  a  magnificent 
sphere,  effulgent  and  supremely  glorious. 

[NTotwithstanding  that  it  was  long  before 
I  slept,  I  awoke  with  the  day.  I  think  its 
peculiar  light  had  something  to  do  with  my 
waking.  I  did  not  suppose  such  light  was 
possible  out  of  heaven!  It  did  not  dazzle 
me,  however;  it  simply  filled  me,  and  gave 
me  a  sensation  of  peculiar  buoyancy. 

I  had  a  singular  feeling  when  I  first 
stepped    out   of  bed, —  that    the  floor   was 


16  "GlnvdUnfl  a  iparallel. 

not  going  to  liold  mc.  It  was  as  if  I 
should  presently  be  lifted  up,  as  a  feather  is 
lifted  by  a  slight  current  of  air  skimming 
along  on  the  ground.  But  I  soon  found 
that  this  was  not  going  to  happen.  INIy  feet 
clung  securely  to  the  polished  wood  and 
the  soft  AYOol  of  the  rug  at  the  bedside.  I 
laughed  quietly  to  myself.  In  fact  I  was 
in  the  humor  to  laugh.  I  felt  so  happy. 
Happiness  seemed  to  be  a  quality  of  the  air, 
which  at  that  hour  was  particularly  chai'm- 
ing  in  its  freshness  and  its  pinkish  tones. 

I  had  made  my  ablutions  and  Avas  taking 
up  my  trousers  to  put  them  on,  when  there 
was  a  tap  at  the  door  and  Severnius  appeared 
with  some  soft  white  garments,  such  as  he 
himself  wore,  thrown  over  his  arm.  In  the 
most  delicate  manner  possible,  he  conveyed 
the  wish  that  I  might  feel  disposed  to  put 
them  on. 

I  blushed, —  they  seemed  such  womanish 
thmgs.  He  misinterpreted  my  confusion. 
He  assured  me  by  every  means  in  his  power 
that  I  was  entirely  welcome  to  them,  that 
it  would  give  him  untold  jileasure  to  provide 
for  my  every  want.     I  could  not  stand  out 


TUnvdling  a  iparallcl.  17 

against  sueli  generosity.  I  reached  for  the 
things  —  swaddHng  clothes  I  called  them — 
and  Severnius  helped  me  to  array  myself  in 
them.  I  happened  to  glance  into  the  mirror, 
and  I  did  not  recognize  myself.  I  had  some 
sense  of  how  a  barbarian  must  feel  in  his 
first  civilized  suit. 

At  my  friend's  suggestion  I  hung  my  own 
familiar  apparel  up  in  the  closet, —  you  may 
imagine  with  what  reluctance. 

But  T  may  say,  right  here,  that  I  grew 
rapidly  to  my  new  clothes.  I  soon  liked 
them.  There  was  something  very  graceful 
in  the  cut  and  style  of  them. 

They  covered  and  adorned  the  body  with- 
out disguising  it.  They  left  the  limbs  and 
muscles  free  and  encouraged  grace  of  pose 
and  movement. 

The  elegant  folds  in  which  the  garments 
hung  from  the  shoulders  and  the  waist,  the 
tassels  and  fringes  and  artistic  dra])ery 
arrangements,  while  seemingly  left  to  their 
own  caprice,  were  as  secure  in  their  i)lace 
as  the  plumage  of  a  bird, —  which  the  wind 
may  ruffle  l)ut  cannot  displace. 

I  suspect  that  it   requires    a   great    deal 


18  tlnvcilino  a  Parallel. 

of  skill  to  construct  a  Marsian  costume, 
whether  for  male  or  female.  They  are  not 
altogether  dissimilar;  the  women's  stuffs 
are  of  a  little  finer  quality  ordinarily,  but 
their  dress  is  not  usually  so  elaborately 
trimmed  as  the  men's  garb,  which  struck 
me  as  very  peculiar.  Both  sexes  wear 
white,  or  a  soft  cream.  The  fabric  is  cither 
a  sort  of  fine  linen,  or  a  mixture  of  silk  and 
wool. 

After  Severnius  and  I  came  to  under- 
stand each  other,  as  comrades  and  friends, 
he  laughingly  compared  my  dress,  in  which 
I  had  made  my  first  appearance,  to  the 
saddle  and  housings  of  a  horse.  lie  declared 
that  he  and  his  friends  were  not  quite  sure 
whether  I  was  a  man  or  a  beast.  But  he 
was  too  polite  to  give  me  the  remotest  hint, 
during  our  early  acquaintance,  that  he  con- 
sidered my  garb  absurd. 

When,  having  completed  my  toilet,  I  in- 
dicated to  him  that  I  was  ready  for  the  next 
thing  on  the  program, —  which  I  sincerely 
hoped  might  be  breakfast, —  he  approached 
me  and  taking  my  Jiand  placed  a  gold  ring 
on    my    finger.     It    was  set  with  a  superb 


TfluT'eiUng  a  parallel.  19 

rubellite  enhanced  with  i)earls.  The  stone 
was  the  only  bit  of  color  in  my  entire  dress. 
Even  my  shoes  w  ere  of  white  canvas. 

I  thanked  hiin  as  well  as  I  Avas  able  for 
this  especial  mark  of  favor.  I  was  pleased 
that  he  had  given  me  a  gem  not  only  beauti- 
ful, but  possessing  remarkable  qualities.  I 
held  it  in  a  ray  of  sunlight  and  turned  it 
this  w^ay  and  that,  to  show  him  that  I  was 
capable  of  appreciating  its  beauties  and  its 
peculiar  characteristics. 

He  was  delighted,  and  T  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  feeling  that  I  had  made  a  good  im- 
pression upon  him. 

He  led  the  w^ay  down-stairs,  and 
luckily   into    the   breakfast    room. 

We  were  served  In'  men  dressed  similarly 
to  ourselves,  though  their  clothing  was 
without  trinmiing  and  was  of  coarser  mate- 
rial than  ours.  They  moved  about  the  room 
swiftly  and  noiselessly.  Motion  upon  that 
jdanet  seems  so  natural  and  so  easy.  There 
is  very  little  ineitia  to  overcome. 

Our  meal  was  rather  odd ;  it  consisted  of 
fruits,  some  curiously  j^reparcd  cereals,  and 
a  hot  pMlatable  drink.     Xo  meat. 


20  •GlnreUino  a  iparallcl. 

After  this  light  Init  entirely  satisfactory 
repast  we  ascended  the  grand  stair^vay  — 
a  marvel  of  beauty  in  its  elaborate  carvings 
—  and  entered  a  lofty  apartment  occupying 
a  large  part  of  the  last  etage. 

I  at  first  made  out  that  it  was  a  place  de- 
voted to  the  fine  arts.  I  had  noticed  a 
somewhat  conspicuous  absence,  in  the  rooms 
below,  of  the  sort  of  things  with  which  rich 
people  in  our  country  crowd  their  houses. 
I  understood  now,  they  were  all  marshaled 
up  here. 

There  were  exquisitely  carved  vessels  of 
all  descriptions,  bronzes,  marbles,  royal 
paintings,  precious   minerals. 

Here  also  were  the  riches  of  color. 

The  brilliant  moi-ning  light  came  through 
the  most  beautiful  windows  I  have  ever  seen, 
even  in  our  finest  cathedrals.  The  large 
central  stained  glasses  were  studded  round 
with  prisms  that  played  extraordinary  pranks 
with  the  sunbeams,  which,  as  they  glanced 
from  them,  were  splintered  into  a  thousand 
scintillating  Ijits,  as  splendid  as  jewels. 

AYe  sat  down,  I  filled — 1  do  not  know 


TUnveillnfl  a  parallel.  21 

why — with  a  curious  sense  of  expectancy 
that  was  half  awe. 

Across  one  end  of  the  great  room  was 
stretched  a  superb  curtain  of  tapestry, — 
a  mosaic  in  silk  and  wool. 

Severnius  did  not  make  any  other  sign  or 
gesture  to  me  except  the  one  that  bade  me 
be  seated. 

I  watched  him  wonderingly  but  furtively. 
He  seemed  to  be  composing  himself,  as  I 
have  seen  saintly  peo2:)le  compose  themselves 
in  church.  ISTot  that  he  was  saintly;  he  did 
not  strike  me  as  being  that  kind  of  a  man, 
though  there  was  that  about  him  which  pro- 
claimed him  to  be  a  good  man,  whose  friend- 
ship would  be  a  valualjle  acquisition. 

He  folded  his  hands  loosely  in  his  lap  and 
sat  motionless,  his  glance  resting  serenely  on 
one  of  the  great  windows  for  a  time  and  then 
passing  on  to  other  objects  equally  beautiful. 

We  were  still  enwrapped  in  this  august 
silence  when  I  became  conscious  that  some- 
where, afar  off,  Ijcyond  the  tapestry  cur- 
tain, there  were  stealing  toward  us  strains 
of  unusual,  ineffal)le  nuisic,  tantalizingly 
sweet   and   vague. 


22  TUnveiliiHi  a  parallel. 

Gradually  the  almost  indistinguishable 
sounds  detached  themselves  from,  and  rose 
above,  the  pulsing  silence, —  or  that  unap- 
preciable  harmony  we  call  silence, —  and 
swelled  up  among  the  arches  that  ril)bed 
the  lofty  ceiling,  and  rolled  and  reverberated 
through  the  great  dome  above,  and  came 
reflected  down  to  us  in  refined  and  sub- 
limated inidulations. 

Our  souls  —  my  soul, —  in  this  new  won- 
der and  ecstasy  1  forgot  Severnius, —  awoke 
in  responsive  raptures,  inconceivably  thrill- 
ing and  exalted. 

I  did  not  need  to  be  told  that  it  was 
sacred  music,  it  invoked  the  Divine  Presence 
inimistakably.  No  influence  that  had  ever 
before  been  trained  upon  my  spiritual 
senses  had  so  com})elled  to  adoration  of 
the  Supreme  One  Avho  holds  and  rules  all 
worlds. 

"  He  lifts  me  to  the  golden  doors  ; 

The  flashes  come  and  go  ; 
All  heaven  bursts  her  starry  floors, 

And  strows  her  lights  below, 
And  deepens  on  and  up  !    the  gates 

Roll  back.      *      *      *      *  " 


TUnvefltnd  a  iparaTlel.  23 

This  I  murmured,  and  texts  of  our  script- 
ures, and  fragments  of  anthems.  It  was  as 
if  I  brought  my  earthly  tribute  to  lay  on 
this  Marsian  shrine. 

The  gates  did  roll  back,  the  heavens  were 
broken  up,  new  spiritual  heights  were  shown 
to  me,  u]:)  which  my  spirit  mounted. 

I  looked  at  Severnius.  His  eyes  were 
closed.  His  face,  lighted  as  by  an  inner 
illumination,  and  his  Avhole  attitude,  sug- 
gested a  "waiting  upon  God,"  that 

"Intercourse  divine, 
Which  God  permits,  ordains,  across  the  line." 

There  stole  insensibly  upon  the  sound- 
burdened  air,  the  hallowed  perfume  of  burn- 
ing incense. 

I  conjectured,  and  truly  as  I  afterward 
learned,  that  I  was  in  my  friend's  private 
sanctuary.  It  was  his  spiritual  lavatory, 
in  which  he  made  daily  ablutions.  A  service 
in  which  the  soid  lays  aside  the  forms  nec- 
essary in  public  worship  and  stands  un- 
veiled before  its  God. 

It  was  a  rare  honor  he  paid  nic,  in  per- 
mitting   me  to   accompany  him.      And   he 


24  *Glnt>eilinfl  a  iparallel. 

repeated  it  every  morning  dnring  my  stay 
in  his  house,  except  on  one  or  two  occasions. 
It  speedily  became  almost  a  necessity  to  me. 
You  know  how  it  is  when  you  have  fonned 
a  habit  of  exercising  your  muscles  in  a 
gymnasium.  If  you  leave  it  off,  you  are 
uncomfortable,  you  have  a  feeling  that  you 
have  cheated  your  body  out  of  its  right. 
It  was  so  with  me,  when  for  any  reason  I 
was  obliged  to  forego  this  higher  exercise. 
I  was  heavy  in  spirit,  my  conscience  accused 
me  of  a  wrong  to  one  of  the  "selfs"  in  me, 
—  for  we  have  se^'eral  selfs,  I  think. 

There  was  not  always  music.  Sometimes 
a  wonderful  voice  chanted  psalms  and 
praises,  and  recited  poems  that  troubled 
the  soul's  deepest  waters.  At  first  I  did  not 
understand  the  words,  of  course,  but  the  in- 
tonations s^Joke  to  me  the  same  as  music 
does.  And  I  felt  that  I  knew  what  the 
words  expressed. 

Often  there  was  nothing  there  but  The 
Presence,  which  hushed  our  A^oices  and  set 
our  souls  in  tune  Avith  heavenly  things.  'No 
matter,  I  was  fed  and  satisfied. 


"Glnvdllno  a  iparallel.  25 

At  the  end  of  a  sweet  half-hour,  the  music 
died  away,  and  we  I'ose  and  passed  out  of 
the  sacred  place.  I  longed  to  question 
Severnius,  but  was  powerless. 

He  led  the  way  down  into  the  library, 
which  was  just  off  the  wide  entrance  hall. 
Books  were  ranged  round  the  walls  on 
shelves,  the  same  as  we  dispose  om's.  But 
they  were  all  bound  in  white  cloth  or  white 
leather. 

The  lettering  on  the  backs  was  gold. 

I  took  one  in  my  hand  and  flipped  its 
leaves  to  show  Severnius  that  I  knew  what 
a  book  was.  He  was  delighted.  He  asked 
me,  in  a  language  which  he  and  I  had  speed- 
ily established  between  ourselves,  if  I  would 
not  like  to  learn  the  Marsian  tongue.  I  re- 
plied that  it  was  what  I  wished  above  all 
things  to  do.  We  set  to  work  at  once. 
His  teaching  was  very  simple  and  natural, 
and  I  quickly  mastered  several  important 
pi'inciples. 

After  a  little  a  servant  announced  some 
visitors,  and  Severnius  went  out  into  the 
hall  to  receive  them.  He  left  the  door  open, 
and  I  saw  that  the  visitors  were  the  astron- 


26  "dnreilinfi  a  parallel. 

omers  I  had  met  the  night  before.  They 
asked  to  see  me,  and  Severnius  ushered  them 
mto  the  hbrary.  I  stood  up  and  shook 
hands  wdth  each  one,  as  he  advanced,  and 
repeated  their  own  formula  for  "How  do 
you  do!  "  which  quite  amused  them.  I  sup- 
pose the  words  sounded  very  parrot-like, — 
I  did  not  know  where  to  put  the  accent. 
They  congratulated  me  with  many  smiles 
and  gesticulations  on  my  determination  to 
learn  the.  language, —  Severnius  ha^-ing  ex- 
plained tliis  fact  to  them.  He  also  told  them 
that  I  had  perhaps  better  be  left  to  myself 
and  him  until  I  had  mastered  it,  when  of 
course  I  should  be  much  more  interesting  to 
them  and  they  to  me.  They  acquiesced, 
and  with  many  bows  and  waves  of  the  hand, 
withdrew. 

The  language,  I  found,  was  not  at  all  dif- 
ficult,—  not  so  arbitrary  as  many  of  our 
modern  languages.  It  was  similar  in  form 
and  construction  to  the  ancient  languages  of 
southern  Europe.  The  proper  names  had 
an  almost  familiar  sound.  That  of  the  coun- 
try I  was  in  was  Paleveria.  The  city  was 
called  Thursia,  and  there  was  a  river  flow- 


■GlnveiUtui  a  iparallel.  27 

ing  through  it, —  one  portion  of  Severnius' 
groiiiids,  at  the  back  of  the  house,  sloped  to 
it, —  named  the  Gyro. 


Cbaptcr  2» 

A   WOMAN. 

"Her  face  so  fair,   as  flesh  it  seemed  not, 
But  hevenly  portrait  of  bright  angels  hew, 
Clear  as  the  skye  withouten  blame  or  blot, 
Through  goodly  mixture  of  complexion's  dew; 
And  in  her  cheeks  the  vermeil  red  did  shew 
Like  roses  in  a  bed  of   lillies  shed, 

****** 
In  her  faire  eyes  two  living    lamps  did  flame." 

— Spenser. 

Thus  far,  I  had  seen  no  women.  I  was 
curious  on  this  point,  and  I  was  not  kept 
long  in  suspense.  Late  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  following  my  arrival,  Severnius 
and  I  went  out  to  walk  about  the  grounds, 
and  were  returning  through  an  avenue  of 
eucalyptus  trees, —  of  a  variety  more  wide- 
spreading  in  their  bi-anches  than  any  I  have 
seen    in    our    country, —  when    a   person 


■dnvetllufl  a  parallel.  29 

alighted  from  a  carriage  in  the  parte  cochere 
and,  instead  of  entering  the  house,  came  to 
meet  us.  It  was  a  woman.  Though  it  was 
not  left  to  her  dress,  nor  her  stature, —  she 
was  nearly  as  tall  as  m^^self ,—  to  proclaim 
that  fiict;  her  grace  and  carriage  would 
have  determined  her  sex,  if  her  beautiful 
face  had  not.  She  advanced  swiftly,  with 
long,  free  steps.  Her  white  dress,  similar 
in  cut  and  style  to  ours,  was  relieved  only 
by  a  girdle  studded  with  gems.  She  car- 
ried a  little  white  parasol  A\ith  a  gold  fringe, 
and  wore  no  head-gear  to  crush  down  her 
beautifully  massed  hair. 

I  felt  myself  growing  red  under  her  lively 
gaze,  and  attributed  it  to  my  clothes.  I  was 
not  accustomed  to  them  yet,  and  I  felt  as 
you  would  to  appear  before  a  beautiful 
woman  in  your  night  shirt.  Especially  if 
you  fancied  you  saw  something  in  her  eyes 
which  made  you  suspect  that  slio  thought 
you  cut  a  ludicrous  figure.  Of  course  that 
was  my  imagination,  my  apparel,  in  her  eyes, 
must  have  been  correct,  since  it  was  selected 
from  among  his  best  by  my  new  friend, 
who  was  unmistakably  a  man  of  taste. 


30  'Onveilini)  a  parallel. 

Her  face,  which  Avas  indescribably  lovely, 
was  also  keenly  intelligent, —  that  sort  of 
intelligence  which  lets  nothing  escape, 
which  is  as  quick  to  grasp  a  humorous  sit- 
uation as  a  sublime  truth.  It  Avas  a  face  of 
power  and  of  passion, — of,  I  might  say,  manly 
self-restraint, —  but  yet  so  soft ! 

I  now  observed  for  the  fii-st  time  the 
effect  of  the  pinkish  atmosphere  on  the  com- 
plexion. You  have  seen  ladies  in  a  room 
where  the  light  came  through  crimson  hang- 
ings or  glass  stained  red.     So  it  was  here. 

Severnius  smiled,  spoke,  and  gave  her  his 
hand.  The  glance  they  bestowed  upon  eacli 
other  established  their  relationship  in  my 
mind  instantly.  I  had  seen  that  glance  a 
thousand  times,  without  suspecting  it  had 
ever  made  so  strong  an  impression  upon  me 
that  in  a  case  like  this  I  shoidd  accept  its 
evidence  without  other  testimony.  They 
were  brother  and  sister.  I  was  glad  of 
that,  for  the  reason,  I  suppose,  that  every 
immarried  man  is  glad  to  find  a  beautiful 
woman  unmarried, —  there  are  seductive 
possibilities  in  the  situation. 


TllnveUing  a  iparallel.  31 

Sevcrniiis  did  his  best  to  introduce  us. 
He  called  her  Elodia.  I  learned  afterwards 
that  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  that  country 
have  no  perfunctoiy  titk\s,  like  Mrs.,  or  Mr., 
they  support  their  dignity  without  that.  It 
woidd  have  seemed  belittling  to  say  "Miss  " 
Elodia. 

I  had  a  feeling  that  she  did  not  attach 
nuicli  importance  to  me,  that  she  was  half 
amused  at  the  idea  of  me;  a  peculiar  tilting- 
up  of  her  eyebrows  told  me  so,  and  I  was 
piqued.  It  seemed  unfair  that,  sim})ly  be- 
cause she  could  not  account  for  me,  she 
should  set  me  d(^wn  as  inferior,  or  impos- 
sible, or  ridiculous,  whichever  was  in  her 
mind.  She  regarded  me  as  I  have  some- 
times regarded  un-English  foreigners  in  the 
streets  of  ^ew  York. 

She  indulged  her  curiosity  al)out  me  only 
for  a  moment,  asking  a  few  questions  I  in- 
ferred, and  then  passed  me  over  as  though 
she  had  more  weighty  matters  in  hand.  I 
knew,  later  on,  that  she  waived  me  as  a 
topic  of  conversation  wlieu  her  lirotlier  in- 
sisted ui)()n  talking  about  me,  saying  half 
im])atiently,  "Wait  till  he  can  talk  and  ex- 


32  "ClnveilinG  a  B>araUel. 

l)laiii  himself,  Sevcrnius, —  since  you  say  lie 
is  going  to  learn  our  speech." 

I  studied  her  ivith  deep  mterest  as  we 
walked  along,  and  no  movement  or  accent 
of  hers  Avas  lost  upon  nie.  Once  she  raised 
her  hand  —  her  wide  sleeve  slipped  back  and 
bared  a  lovely  arm  —  to  break  off  a  long 
scimeter-shaped  leaf  from  a  bough  over- 
head. Quicker  than  thought  I  sprang  at 
the  bough  and  snapped  off  the  leaf  in  ad- 
vance of  her,  and  presented  it  with  a  low 
obeisance.  She  drew  herself  up  with  a  look 
of  indignant  surprise,  but  instantly  relented 
as  though  to  a  person  Avhose  eccentricities, 
for  some  reason  or  other,  might  better  be 
excused.  She  did  not,  however,  take  the 
leaf, —  it  fluttered  to  the  ground. 

She  was  not  like  any  other  Avoman, —  any 
Avoman  I  had  CA^er  seen  before.  You  could 
not  accuse  her  of  hauteur,  yet  she  bore  her- 
self like  a  royal  personage,  though  Avith  no 
suggestion  of  affecting  that  sort  of  an  air. 
You  had  to  take  her  as  seriously  as  you 
Avould  the  Czar.  I  saw  this  in  her  brother's 
attitude  toAvard  her.  There  Avas  none  of  that 
condescension  in  his  manner  that  there  often 


"dnveiling  a  iparallel.  33 

is  in  our  iiiaiUKT  toward  tlie  woincn  of  our 
houweliolds.  I  Ix'ij^au  io  Avondcr  Avliotlici'sliL' 
iniglitiiot  )je  IIrmjuccu  of  tliu  realm!  IJiit  .she 
Avas  not.     She  was  siiui)ly  a  private  citizen. 

She  sat  at  tlie  dinner  ta])le  with  us,  and 
divided  the  honors  ecjually  with  Severnin-s. 

T  wish  1  could  give  you  an  idea  of  that 
diinier, —  the  dining'-room,  the  service,  the 
whole  thing!  It  surpassed  my  finest  con- 
ce])tions  of  taste  and  elegance. 

AYe  sat  down  not  mei'cly  to  eat, —  thougli 
I  Avas  lunigry  enongli  ! — but  to  enjoy  our- 
selves in  other  ways. 

Tliere  was  everything  lor  the  eye  to  de- 
light in.  The  room  was  i-ich  in  artistic 
decorations  npon  which  the  rarest  talent 
must  have  Ijcen  employed.  The  taljle  ar- 
rangements were  superb;  gold  and  silver, 
crystal,  fine  china,  embroidered  linen,  flow^- 
ers.  And  the  food,  served  in  many  courses, 
was  a  hap])y  conil)ination  of  the  sul)stantial 
and  the  delicate.  There  was  music — not 
too  near — of  a  bright  and  lively  character. 
Music  enters  largely  into  the  life  of  these 
people.  It  seemed  to  me  that  something 
beat  time  to  almost  everything  w^e  did. 


34  lanvciling  a  parallel. 

The  coiiver.sation  caiTicd  on  ]>c'tween  the 
brother  and  sister  —  in  which  I  coukl  take 
no  more  part  than  a  deaf-mute  —  was,  I  felt 
sure,  extremely  entertaining  if  not  impor- 
tant. My  eyes  served  me  well, —  for  one 
sense  is  quick  to  assume  the  Inu'dens  of 
anothei", —  and  I  knew  that  the  talk  Avas 
not  mere  banter,  nor  Avas  it  simi)ly  the  nec- 
essary exchange  of  words  and  oj)inions 
about  e\'eryday  matters  which  nmst  take 
place  in  famihes  periodically,  concerning 
fuel,  and  j)r<)visions,  and  servants,  and 
water-tax,  and  the  like.  It  took  a  nmch 
higher  range.  The  faces  of  both  were  an- 
imated, their  eyes  beamed  Ijrightly  upon 
each  other.  It  was  clear  that  the  brother 
did  n(jt  talk  down  to  her  miderstanding, 
rather  he  talked  up  to  it, —  or  no,  they  were 
on  a  level  with  each  other,  the  highest  level 
of  both,  for  they  held  each  other  up  to  their 
best.  However,  Elodia  had  been  away  for 
a  couple  of  days,  I  learned,  and  absence 
gives  a  bloom  of  ncAvness  which  it  is  de- 
lightful to  brush  off. 

I  did  not  detect  any  of  the  quality  we  call 
chivalry  in  Severnius'  pose,  ntjr  of  its  com- 


TUnvdlliui  a  parallel.  35 

plemciil  ill  hers.  Though  one  would  hardly 
expeet  that  hetween  brothers  and  sisters 
anywhere.  Still,  we  have  a  way  with  our 
near  Avomen  relations  which  never  ignores 
the  distinction  between  the  sexes ;  we  humor 
them,  2)atr(mize  them,  tyramiize  over  them. 
And  they  defer  to,  and  exalt  us,  and  usually 
acknowledge  our  superiority. 

It  was  not  so  Avith  this  ])air.  Tliey  re- 
spected and  honored  each  other  equally. 
And  there  was  a  charming  camaraderie 
between  them,  the  same  as  if  they  had 
both  been  men  —  or  women,  if  you  single 
out  the  right  kind. 

They  held  widely  different  o[)iiii()iis  upon 
mau}^  subjects,  but  they  never  crowded  them 
upon  each  other.  Their  tastes  were  dis- 
similai'.  For  one  thing,  Elodia  had  not  her 
brother's  line  religious  sense.  She  seldom 
entered  the  sanctuary,  though  once  or  twice 
1  saAV  her  there,  seated  far  apart  from  Se- 
vern i  us  and  myself. 

Sthnulated  by  the  hope  of  some  day  being 
able  to  talk  with  her,  and  of  convincing  her 
that  I  Avas  a  person  not  altogether  beneath 
her  intelligence,  I  devoted  myself,  mind  and 


36  "GlnveilinG  a  iPavallel. 

soul,  to  the    l^aU'vcriaii    l;m,L;iia<;'o.     In    six 
weeks   I  could   i"ead  and  write  it  fairly  well 

Severnius  was  untiring'  in  his  teaehinjj;'; 
and  every  day  strengtheneil  niy  regard  for 
him  as  a  man.  lie  Avas  an  aeeomplished 
scholar,  and  he  was  as  cK'an-souled  as  a 
child, —  l)ut  not  weakly  or  ignorantly  so. 
lie  knew  evil  as  well  as  good;  but  he  re- 
nounced the  one  and  accepted  the  other 
He  was  a  man  "api)ointed  l)y  Almighty  God 
to  stand  for  a  fact."  And  I  ncNcr  knew  him 
to  weaken  his  position  l)y  defending  it. 
Often  we  spent  hours  in  the  observatory 
together.  It  was  a  glorious  thing  to  me  to 
watch  the  splendid  fleet  of  asteroids  saihng 
between  Jupiter  and  Mars,  and  to  single 
out  the  variously  colored  moons  of  Jupiter, 
and  to  distinguish  with  extraordinary  clear- 
ness a  thousand  other  wonders  but  dindy 
seen  from  the  Earth. 

Even   to  study  the  moons  of  Mars,  the 
lesser    one  whirling  roinid  the  })lanet  with 
such    astonishing  velocity,  was  a  world  of 
entertainment  to  me. 

I  had  bes-g-ed  Severnius  not  to  ask  me  to 
see  any  visitors  at  all  until  I  could  acquit  my- 


TUnvcillng  a  iparallel.  37 

self  creditably  in  eonversation.  lie  agreed, 
and  I  saw  no  one.  I  l)elieYe  that  in  those 
Aveelvs  of  quiet  stnd\%  observation,  and  close 
conipanionshi])  of  one  noble  man,  my  soul 
was  cleared  of  much  dross.  I  lived  with 
books,  Severnius,  and  the  stars. 

At  last,  I  no  longer  feared  to  trust  my- 
self to  speak,  even  to  Elodia.  It  was  a 
great  surprise  to  her,  and  evidently  a  ]ileas- 
ure  too. 

My  fn-st  brilliant  attempt  was  at  the  din- 
ner table.  Severnius  adroith^  drew  me  into 
a  conversation  about  our  world.  Elodia 
turned  her  delightful  gaze  upon  me  so 
fi-ankly  and  approvingly  that  I  felt  myself 
blushing  like  a  boy  whom  his  pretty  Sab- 
l)ath-school  teacher  praises  with  her  smile 
when  he  says  his  text. 

Up  to  that  time,  although  she  had  been 
polite  to  me, —  so  entirely  polite  that  I  never 
for  a  moment  felt  myself  an  intruder  in  her 
home, —  she  api)arently  took  no  givat  in- 
terest in  me.  But  now  she  voluntai-ily  ad- 
dressed me  whenever  we  met,  and  took 
pains  to  draw  me  out. 


^^  TUnvciling  a  ffiarallel. 

Once  she  glanced  at  a  book  I  was  read- 
ing, a  rather  heavy  work,  and  smiled. 

**  You  have  made  astonishing  progress," 
she  said. 

"I  have  had  the  best  of  instructors,"  Ire- 
plied. 

"  Ah,  yes ;  Severnius  has  great  patience. 
And  besides,  he  likes  3 on.  And  then  of 
course  he  is  not  wholly  disinterested,  he 
wants  to  hear  about  your  planet." 

"And  do  you? "  I  asked  foolishly.  I 
wanted  somehow  to  get  the  conversation  to 
running  in  a  personal  channel. 

"  O,  of  course,"  she  retiu-ned  indifferently, 
"  though  I  am  not  an  astronomer.  I  should 
like  to  hear  something  about  your  people." 

I  took  that  cue  joyfully,  and  soon  we  were 
on  very  sociable  terms  with  each  other.  She 
listened  to  my  stories  and  descriptions  with 
a  most  flattering  interest,  and  I  soon  found 
myself  worshiping  her  as  a  goddess.  Yes, 
as  a  goddess,  not  a  woman.  Her  entire  lack 
of  coquetry  prevented  me  from  making  love 
to  her,  or  would  have  prevented  me  if  I  had 
dared  to  have  such  a  thought.  If  there 
could  have  been  anything  tender  between  us, 


TUnvdUno  a  iparallel.  39 

I  think  slic  must  liave  made  tlic  advances. 
But  this  is  foolish.  I  am  merely  trying  to 
give  you  some  idea  of  the  kind  of  woman 
she  was.  But  1  know  that  I  cannot  do  that; 
the  quality  of  a  woman  must  be  felt  to  be 
understood. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  social  gnyety  in 
Thursia.  We  went  out  frequently,  to  opera, 
to  concert,  and  to  crowded  gatherings  in 
splendid  homes.  I  observed  that  Elodia  im- 
mediately became  the  centre  of  interest 
wherever  she  ajipcared.  She  gave  fresh  zest 
to  every  amusement  or  conversation.  She 
seemed  to  dignify  with  her  presence  what- 
ever happened  to  be  going  on,  and  made  it 
worth  while.  Not  that  she  distinguished 
herself  in  speech  or  act;  she  had  the  effect 
of  being  infinitely  greater  than  anything 
she  did  or  said  and  one  was  always  looking 
out  for  manifestations  of  that.  Slie  ke])t 
one's  interest  in  her  \ip  to  the  highest  ])itch. 
I  often  asked  myself,  "  AVhy  is  it  that  we  are 
always  looking  at  her  with  a  kind  of  in<|niry 
in  our  glances?  —  what  is  it  that  ^^e  i.\])ect 
her  to  do?" 

It  was  a  gieal  ])art  of  her  charm  that   she 


40  "GlnrdUnfl  a  iParallcl. 

was  not  hlase.  She  was  full  of  interest  in 
all  about  her,  she  was  keenly  and  delig-ht- 
fully  alive.  Her  manners  were  perfect,  and 
yet  she  seemed  careless  of  etiquette  and 
conventions.  Pier  good  manners  wei'e  a  ])ai't 
of  herself,  as  her  re<j;al  cari'iage  Avas. 

It  was  her  imvarying-  habit,  almost,  to 
si)end  several  hours  down  town  eveiy  day. 
T  ventured  to  ask  Severnius  wherefore. 

He  replied  that  she  had  large  business 
interests,  and  looked  carefully  after  them 
herself. 

I  expressed  astonishment,  and  Severnius 
was  equally  surprised  at  me.  I  questioned 
him  and  lie  explained. 

"My  father  was  a  banker,"  he  said,  "  and 
very  rich.  My  sister  inherited  his  gift  and 
taste  for  finance.  I  took  after  my  mother's 
family,  Avho  were  scientists.  AVe  were 
trained,  of  course,  in  our  early  years  accord- 
ing to  our  respective  talents.  At  our  par- 
ents' death  we  inherited  their  fortune  in 
equal  shares.  Elodia  was  prepared  to  take 
u])  my  father's  business  Avhere  he  left  it.  In 
fact  he  had  associated  her  with  himself  in 
the  business  for  some  time  previous  to  his 


■Cliu'efUng  a  parallel.  41 

departure,  andshchas  ennicd  il  on  very  suc- 
cessfully ever  since." 

^'Slie  is  a  l)anker!  "  said  I. 

"Yes.  I,  myself,  have  always  liad  a  liking' 
for  astronomy,  and  T  have  been  employed, 
ever  since  I  finished  my  education,  in  the 
State  Observatory." 

"  And  how  do  you  employ  your  capital?" 
I  asked. 

"Elodia  manages  it  for  me.  It  is  all  in 
the  bank,  or  in  investments  which  she  makes. 
I  use  my  dividends  largely  in  the  interest  of 
science.  The  State  does  a  great  deal  in  that 
direction,  but  not  enough." 

"  And  what,  may  I  ask,  does  she  do  with 
her  sur])lus, —  ^^our  sister,  I  mean, —  she  nuist 
make  a  givatdenl  of  mtmey?  " 

"She  re-invests  it.  She  has  a  speculative 
tendency,  and  is  rather  daring;  though  they 
tell  me  she  is  very  safe — far-sighted,  or  large- 
sighted,  I  should  call  it.  I  do  not  know 
how  many  great  enterprises  she  is  connected 
with, —  railroads,  lines  of  steamers,  minin<^ 
and  manufacturing  operations.  And  besides, 
she  is  public-s])irited.  She  is  much  inter- 
ested in  the  cause  of  education,  —  practical 


42  'dnvdlmo  a  iparallel. 

education  for  the  poor  CHpecially.  She  is' 
president  of  the  school  board  here  in  the  city, 
and  she  is  also  a  member  of  the  city  council. 
A  great  many  of  onr  modern  improvements 
are  due  to  her  efforts." 

My  look  of  amazement  arrested  his  atten- 
tion. 

"Why  are  you  so  surprised?"  he  asked. 
"  Do  not  your  Avomen  engage  in  business  ?  " 

"AYell,  not  to  such  an  extraordinary 
degree,"  I  I'cplied.  "We  have  women  who 
work  in  various  Avays,  but  there  are  veiy 
few  of  them  who  have  large  business  inter- 
ests, and  they  are  not  entrusted  with  im- 
portant })ublic  affairs,  such  as  numicipal 
govermnent  and  the  management  of 
schools!" 

"  Oh  I  "  returned  Severnius  with  the  note 
of  one  who  does  not  quite  undei'staiid. 
"Would  you  mind  telling  me  why?  Is  it 
because  they  are  incapable,  or  —  unrelia- 
ble?" 

Neither  of  the  words  he  chose  struck  me 
pleasantly  as  a])])rK'd  to  my  countr3'women. 
I  remembered  that  I  was  the  sole  re]iresen- 
tative  of  the   Earth    on   Mars,    and  that   it 


"Clnvcilinfi  a  iparallel.  43 

^tood  me  in  hand  to  be  careful  about  the 
sort  of  impressions  I  gave  out.  It  was  as  if 
I  were  on  the  witness'  stand,  under  oath. 
Facts  must  tell  the  story,  not  opinions, — 
though  personally  I  have  great  confidence 
in  my  opinions.  I  thought  of  our  govern- 
ment departments  where  women  are  the 
experts,  and  of  their  almost  spotless  I'ccord 
for  faithfulness  and  honesty,  and  replied: 

"  They  are  both  capable  and  reliable,  in 
as  far  as  they  have  had  experience.  But 
their  chances  have  l)een  circumscril)ed,  and 
I  believe  they  lack  the  inclination  to  assume 
grave  public  duties.  I  fear  I  cannot  mal<e 
you  understand,  —  our  women  arc  so  dilTer- 
ent,  so  unlike  your  sistei*." 

Elodia  was  always  my  standard  of  com- 
parison. 

''"  I\'rlia])s  Aou  men  take  care  of  them  all," 
suggested  Severniiis,  "and  they  have  grown 
dei)endent.  We  have  some  such  women 
here." 

"No,  r  do  iK.t  tliink  it  is  that  entii-cly," 
said  T.  ""  For  in  my  city  alone,  more  than  a 
lumdi-cd  and  seventy  thousand  Avomen   su])- 


44  'ClnvdlitHi  a  parallel. 

port  not  011I3'  tlieniselvc's,  but  ollicrs  wlio 
are  dependent  n]K)n  tiiem."" 

"Ah,  indeed!  but  how?" 

"By  work." 

"  You  mean  servants?  " 

"Kot  so-called.  I  mean  intelligent,  self- 
respeeting'  women;  teachers,  clerks,  sten- 
ographers, type-writers." 

"  I  should  think  it  would  be  more  agree- 
able, aud  easier,  for  them  to  engage  iu  1ms- 
iness  as  our  women  do." 

"Xo  dcmbt  it  would,"  I  replied,  feeling 
myself  driven  to  a  close  scrutiny  of  the 
Woman  Question,  as  we  call  it,  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life.  For  I  saAV  that  my  friend 
was  deeply  interested  and  wanted  to  get  at 
the  literal  truth.  "  But  the  women  of  my 
country,"  I  went  on,  "the  self-supporting 
ones,  do  not  have  control  of  money.  They 
have  a  horror  of  speculation,  and  shrink 
from  taking  risks  and  making  ventures,  the 
failure  of  Avhich  would  mean  loss  ar  ruin  to 
others.  A  woman's  right  to  make  her  living 
is  restricted  to  the  powers  within  herself, 
powers  of  l)rain  and  hand.  She  is  a  begin- 
ner, you  Ivuow.     She  has  not  yet  learned   to 


"GlnveUing  a  iparallel.  45 

make  money  l)y  (lie  labor  of  others;  slie 
does  not  know  liow  to  manipulate  tli(»si3  who 
are  less  intelligent  and  less  ea|)al)le  than 
herself,  and  to  turn  their  ignoranee  and 
helplessness  to  her  own  aeecmnt.  Perhaps 
I  had  better  add  that  she  is  more  religious 
than  man,  and  is  sustained  in  this  seeming 
injustiee  by  something  she  calls  eonscience." 

Severnius  was  silent  for  a  moment;  he 
had  a  habit  of  setting  his  reason  to  Avork 
and  searching  out  explanations  in  his  own 
mind,  of  things  not  easily  understood. 

As  a  rule,  the  Marsians  have  not  only  veiy 
highly  developed  physical  faculties,  such 
as  sight  and  hearing,  but  remarkably  acute 
intellects.  They  let  no  statement  pass  with- 
out examination,  and  they  scrutinize  facts 
closely  and  seek  for  causes. 

"If  so  many  women,"  said  he,  "arc  obliged 
to  support  themselves  and  others  beside, 
as  you  say,  by  their  work  simply,  they  nuist 
receive  princely  wages,  —  and  of  course 
they  have  no  responsibilities,  which  is  a 
great  saving  of  energy." 

I  remembered  having  heard  it  stated  that 
in  ^ew  York  City,  the  United  States  Bureau 


46  IflnvdUnd  a  parallel. 

gives  the  average  of  women's  wages  —  leav- 
ing out  domestic  service  and  unskilled  labor 

—  as  five  dollars  and  eighty-five  cents  per 
week.  I  mentioned  the  fact,  and  tSevernius 
looked  aghast. 

"  AVhat,  a  mere  pittance ! "  said  he.  "  Only 
about  a  third  as  much  as  I  give  my  stable- 
man. But  then  the  conditions  are  different, 
no  doubt.  Here  in  Thm'sia  that  woukl 
no   more  than  fight  off  the  wolf,  as  we  say, 

—  the  hunger  and  cold.  It  would  afford  no 
taste  of  the  better  things,  freedom,  leisure, 
recreation,  but  would  reduce  life  to  its  Ioav- 
est  terms,  —  mere  existence." 

"  I  fear  the  ccuiditions  are  much  the  same 
with  us,"  I  replied. 

"  And  do  your  women  submit  to  such  con- 
ditions,—  do  they  not  try  to  alter  them, 
throw  them  off  ?  " 

"  They  submit,  of  course,"  I  said ;  "  I  never 
heard  of  a  revolt  or  an  insurrection  among 
them!  Though  there  seems  to  be  growing 
up  among  them,  lately,  a  determination 
strong  as  death,  to  work  out  of  those  con- 
ditions as  fast  as  may  be.  They  realize  — 
just  as  men  have  been  forced  to  realize  in 


"GlnvciliiHi  a  iPniallcl.  47 

this  century  —  that  work  of  the  hands  can- 
not compete  with  work  of  machines,  and 
that  trained  brains  are  better  capital  than 
trained  fingers.  So,  slowly  but  surely,  they 
are  reaching  up  to  the  higher  callings  and 
working  into  places  of  honor  and  trust. 
The  odds  are  against  them,  because  the  *ins' 
always  have  a  tremendous  advantage  over 
the  *outs.'  The  women,  having  never  l)een 
in,  must  sul)mit  to  a  rigid  examination  aud 
extraordinary  tests.  They  know  that,  and 
they  are  rising  to  it  Whenever,  it  is  said, 
they  come  into  competition  with  men,  in  oui- 
colleges  and  training  schools,  they  hold 
their  own  and  moi'e." 

"What  are  they  fittiug  for?''  asked  Se- 
vernius. 

"  Lai'gely  for  the  professions.  They  are 
becoming  doctors,  lawyers,  editors,  artists, 
writers.  The  enormous  systems  of  public 
schools  in  my  own  and  other  countries  is 
entirely  in  their  hands, —  except  of  course 
in  the  management  and  directorship." 

"Except  in  the  management  and  direct- 
orship?" echoed  Severnius. 

"Of    course   they    do    not   provide    and 


48  TflnvcflinG  a  iParallcl. 

disburse  the  fuiids,  see  to  tlie  l)iiilding  of 
seliool-liouses,  and  dietate  tlic  j)orK'y  of  the 
schools!"  I  retorted.  "JJiit  they  teach 
them;  you  can  hardly  ihid  a  male  teacher 
except  at  the  head  of  a  school, —  to  keep  the 
faculty  in  order." 

Severnius  refrained  from  comment  upon 
this,  seeing,  I  suppose,  that  I  was  getting  a 
little  im})atient.  lie  walked  along  with  his 
head  down.  I  think  I  neglected  to  say  that 
we  were  taking  a  long  tramp  into  the  coim- 
try,  as  we  often  did.  In  order  to  change  the 
conversation,  I  asked  him  what  sort  of  a 
government  they  had  in  Paleveria,  and  was 
delighted  when  he  replied  that  it  was  a  free 
republic. 

"My  country  is  a  rei)ublic  also,"  I  said, 
proudly. 

"We  both  have  much  to  l)e  thankful  for," 
he  answered.  "A  republic  is  the  only  natu- 
ral government  in  the  world,  and  man  can- 
not get  above  nature." 

I  thought  this  remark  i-ather  singular, — 
at  variance  with  progress  and  high  civil- 
ization. But  I  let  it  pass,  thinking  to  take 
it  up  at  some  future  time. 


•Qlnvciling  a  parallel.  49 

"  How  do  you  vote  lieiv ? ''  I  askod.  "  AVliat 
are  your  qualifications  and  restrictions?" 

" Briefly  told,"  he  replied.  "Every  citi- 
zen may  vote  on  all  puljlic  questions,  and  in 
all  elections." 

"But  what  constitutes  citizenship?" 

"A  native-horn  is  a  citizen  when  he 
or  she  reaches  maturity.  Foreigners  are 
treated  as  mmoi'S  until  they  have  lived  as 
long  under  the  government  as  it  takes  for 
a  child  to  come  of  age.  It  is  thus,"  he 
added,  facetiously,  "that  we  punish  peopk; 
for  prcsiuning  to  he  born  outside  our  happy 
country." 

"Excuse  me,"  I  said,  "but  do  I  under- 
stand you  to  say  that  your  women  have  the 
right  of  suffrage?  " 

"Assuredly.     Do  not  yours?" 

"Indeed  no!"  I  replied,  the  masculine 
instinct  of  superiority  swelling  within  me. 

Sevcrnius  wears  spectacles.  He  adjusted 
them  carefully  on  his  nose  and  looked  at  me. 

"I5ut  did  you  not  tell  me  just  now  that 
your  country  is  a  republic?" 

"  It  is,  but  we  do  not  hold  that  women 
are  our  political  e(]uals,"  I  answered. 


50  THnvctlinfl  a  iParallel. 

His  face  was  an  exclamation  and  inter- 
rogation point  fused  into  one. 

'^  Indeed !  and  how  do  •  you  manage  it, — 
how,  for  instance,  can  you  prevent  them 
from  voting?" 

"  O,  they  don't  often  try  it,"  I  said,  laugh- 
ing. "When  they  do,  we  simply  throw 
their  ballots  out  of  the  count." 

"Is  it  possil^le!  That  seems  to  me  a 
great  imfairness.  HoAvever,  it  can  be  ac- 
counted for,  I  suppose,  from  the  fact  that 
things  are  so  different  on  the  Earth  to 
what  they  are  here.  Our  government, 
you  see,  rests  upon  a  system  of  taxation. 
We  tax  all  property  to  defray  govern- 
mental expenses,  and  for  many  other  piu'- 
poses  tending  toward  the  general  good; 
which  makes  it  necessary  that  all  our  citi- 
zens shall  have  a  voice  in  our  political 
economy.  But  you  say  yom-  Avomen  have 
no  property,  and  so  —  " 

"I  beg  your  pardcm!"  I  mterposed;  "I 
did  not  say  that.  We  have  a  great  many 
very  rich  women, —  Avomen  whose  husbands 
or  fathers  have  left  them  fortunes." 

"Then  they  of  course  have  a  vote?" 


■GlnveiUno  a  iParallcl.  51 

""'Tliey  do  not.  You  can't  make  a  distinc- 
tion like  that/' 

"N^o?  But  you  exemi>t  Ihcii-  pi-opcrty, 
perliap.s?  '^ 

"Of  course  not." 

"Do  you  tell  mo  that  you  tax  jiroperty, 
to  whatever  amount,  and  l'<ii'  whatever  pur- 
pose, you  choose,  without  allowing'  the 
owner  her  fractional  right  to  decide  aljout 
either  the  one  or  the  other?" 

"Their  interests  are  identical  Avith  ours," 
I  replied,  "  so  Avhat  is  the  difference?  We 
men  manage  the  government  business,  and 
I  flmcy  we  do  it  sufficiently  well." 

I  expanded  my  chest  after  this  i-emark, 
andSevernius  sim])ly  looked  at  me.  I  think 
that  at  that  moment  I  suffered  vicariously 
in  his  scornful  regard  for  all  my  country- 
men. 

I  did  not  like  the  Soci'atic  method  he  had 
adopted  in  this  conversation,  and  I  turned 
the  tables  on  him. 

"Do  youi'  woMu-n  hold  ollice,  other  tlinn 
in  the  school  board  and  the  council? "  I 
asked. 


52  IllnvcUiiui  a  parallel. 

"  O,  yes,  fully  li'ili'  our  offices  are  filled 
by  women." 

"And  you  make  no  discrimination  in  the 
kind  of  office?" 

"  The  hiw  makes  none;  those  things  adjust 
themselves.  Fitness,  equipment,  are  the 
only  things  considered.  A  woman,  the 
same  as  a  man,  is  governed  by  her  taste 
and  inclination  in  the  matter  of  office- 
holding.  Do  women  never  take  a  hand  in 
state  affiiirs  on  the  Earth?" 

"Yes,  in  some  countries  they  do, —  mon- 
archies. There  have  been  a  good  many 
women  sovereigns.     There  are  a  few  now." 

"And  are  they  successful  rulers?" 

"  Some  are,  some  are  not." 

"The  same  as  men.  That  proves  that 
your  women  are  not  really  inferior." 

"  Well,  I  should  say  not !  "  I  retorted. 
"Our  women  are  very  superior;  we  treat 
them  more  as  princesses  than  as  inferior>s, — 
they  are  angels." 

I  was  carried  away  in  th(3  heat  of  resent- 
ment, and  knew  that  what  I  had  said  was 
half  cant. 

"I    beg    your     2)ardonI "  said  Severnius 


■QlnvclUnfl  a  (Parnllcl.  •'>•"• 

quickly;  "I  got  a  wrong  imj)i'esssioii  iVoin 
your  statements.  I  fear  I  am  very  stupid. 
Are  they  all  angels?  " 

I  gave  him  a  fiu'tive  glauee  aud  saw  that 
he  was  in  earnest.  His  brows  were  drawn 
together  with  a  puzzled  look. 

I  had  a  sudden  vision  of  a  scene  in  Five 
Points;  several  gTouj)s  of  fVowslcd,  ])etti- 
coated  beings,  laughing,  joking,  swearing, 
quarreling,  figliting,  and  drinking  beer  from 
dirty  mugs. 

"No,  not  all  of  them,""  I  replied,  smiling. 
"That  was  a  figure  of  speech.  There  are 
so  many  classes." 

"Let  us  confine  (mr  discussion  to  one, 
then,"  he  returned.  "  To  tlie  women  wlio 
might  be  of  your  own  family;  that  will  sim- 
plify matters.  And  now  tell  me,  please, 
how  this  state  of  things  came  abont,  this 
subjection  of  a  part  of  your  people.  I  can- 
not understand  it,  —  these  subjects  being  of 
your  own  flesh  and  blood.  I  should  think 
it  would  bi"eed  domestic  discontent,  where 
some  of  the  members  of  a  family  wield  a 
power  and  enjo}'  a  privilege  denied  to  tiic 


54  Tllnvdlino  a  parallel. 

others.    Fancy  my    shalving    a   l)allot    over 
Eloclia's  head !  " 

"  O,  Elodia !  "  I  said,  and  was  immediately 
conscious  that  my  accent  was  traitorous  to 
my  countrywomen.     I  made  haste  to  add, 

"Your  sister  is  —  incomparable.  She  is 
unusual  even  here.  I  have  seen  none  others 
like  her." 

"  How  do  3^ou  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  she  is  as  responsible  as  a 
man;  she  is  not  inconsequent." 

"Are  your  women  inconsequent?" 

"  They  have  been  called  so,  and  we  think 
it  rather  adds  to  their  attractiveness.  You 
see  they  have  always  been  relieved  of 
responsibility,  and  I  assure  you  the  large 
majority  of  them  have  no  desire  to  assume 
it, —  I  mean  in  the  matter  of  government 
and  politics." 

"Yes?" 

I  dislike  an  interrogative  "yes,"  and  I 
made  no  reply.     Severnius  added, 

"T  su})pose  they  have  lost  the  faculty 
which  you  say  they  lack, —  the  faculty  that 
makes  people  responsible, —  through  disuse. 
I  have  seen  the  same  thing  in  countries  on 


"GlnvdKnfl  a  Parallel.  55 

the  other  side  of  our  glol)e,  where  races 
have  been  held  as  nhaves  for  several  centu- 
ries. They  seem  to  have  no  ideas  about 
personal  rights,  or  liberties,  as  pertaining  to 
themselves,  and  no  inclination  in  that  direc- 
ton.  It  always  struck  me  as  being  the 
most  pathetic  feature  of  their  condition  that 
they  and  everybody  else  accepted  it  as  a 
matter  of  course,  as  they  would  a  law  of 
nature.  In  the  place  of  strength  and  self- 
assertion  there  has  come  to  them  a  dumb 
patience,  or  an  unquestioning  acquiescence 
like  that  of  people  born  blind.  Are  your 
women  happy?" 

"You  should  see  them!  "  I  exclaimed, 
with  certain  ball-room  memories  rusliing 
upon  me,  and  visions  of  fair  faces  i-adiaut 
with  the  joy  of  living.  But  these  were 
quickly  followed  by  other  pictm'cs,  and  I 
felt  bound  to  add,  "Of  late,  a  restless 
spirit  has  developed  in  certain  circles,  —  " 

"The  working  circles,  I  suppose,"  iuter- 
rupted  Severnius.  "You  spoke  of  the  ^\<>  ris- 
ing women  getting  into  the  ])rofessions." 

"Xot  those  exclusively.  I]ven  the  women 
of  leisure  are  not  so  satisiied  as  they  used 


•''^  "UlnvciUng  a  parallel. 

to  be.  There  has  ])een,  for  a  great  many 
years,  more  or  less  chatHiig  ahoiit  women's 
rights,  but  now  they  are  beginning  to  take 
tlie  matter  seriously." 

"Ah,  they  are  waking  up,  perhaps  ?" 

"Yes,  some  of  them  are  waking  up, — 
a  good  many  of  them.  It  is  a  little  ridic- 
ulous, when  one  thinks  of  it,  seeing  they 
have  no  power  to  enforce  their  ^rights',  and 
can  never  attain  them  except  through  the 
condescension  of  men.  Tell  me,  Sevemius, 
when  did  your  women  wake  up  ?  " 

Sevcrnius  smiled.  "My  dear  sir,  I  think 
they  have  never  been  asleep  !  " 

We  stalked  along  silently  for  a  time;  the 
subject  passed  out  of  my  mind,  or  was 
driven  out  by  the  beauties  of  the  landscape 
about  us.  I  was  especially  impressed  with 
the  magnificence  of  the  trees  that  hedged 
every  little  patch  of  farm  land,  and  threw 
their  protecting  arms  around  houses  and 
cottages,  big  and  little;  and  with  the 
many  pellucid  streams  flowing  naturally,  or 
divided  like  strands  of  silk  and  guided  in 
new  courses,  to  lave  the  r(jots  of  trees  or 


■QltUKilinG  n  Iparallcl.  57 

run  through  pasture  lands  whci'c  hords  were 
feeding". 

A  tree  is  sometliing  to  ])e  pi'oiid  of  in 
Paleveria,  more  than  a  fine  residence ;  more 
even  than  ancient  furniture  and  cracked 
china.  Perhaps  because  the  people  sit  out 
luider  their  trees  a  great  deal,  and  the  shade 
of  them  has  protected  the  heads  of  many 
generations,  and  they  have  become  hallowed 
through  sacred  memories  and  traditions. 
In  Paleveria  they  have  tree  doctors,  whose 
business  it  is  to  ward  off  disease,  heal 
wounded  or  broken  boughs,  and  extermi- 
nate destructive  insects. 

Severnius  startled  mc;  suddenly  with  an- 
other question: 

"What,  may  I  ask,  is  your  theory  of 
Man's  creaticm?" 

"God  made  IMan,  and  from  one  of  his 
ribs  fashioned  woman,"'  I  replied  catechct- 
ically. 

"Ours  is  different,"  said  he.  "It  is  this: 
A  ])air  of  creatures,  male  and  female, 
sprang  simultaneously  from  an  enchanted 
lake  in  the  mountain  region  of  a  countiy 
called  C'askia,  in  the  northern  part  of  this 


^>^  "GlnvciUnci  a  ipamllcl. 

continent.  They  were  only  animals,  Init 
they  were  beautiful  and  innocent.  God 
breathed  a  Sou]  into  them  and  they  were 
Man  and  Woman,  equals  in  all  things." 

"A  charming  legend!  "  said  I. 

Later  on  I  learned  the  full  breadth  of  the 
meaning  of  the  equality  he  spoke  of.  At 
that  time  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  com- 
]irehend  it,  and  I  can  only  convey  it  to  you 
in  a  complete  accoimt  of  my  further  expe- 
riences on  that  wonderful  planet. 


Cbaptcr  3» 

THE    AUROKAS'    AJSTNTTAL. 

It  was  Avintcr,  and  snow  was  on  the 
groimd;  white  and  sparkling',  and  as  light 
as  eider-down.  Elodia  kept  a  fine  stal)k'. 
Four  magnificent  white  horses  were  har- 
nessed to  her  sleigh,  which  was  in  the  form 
of  an  immense  swan,  ^\^th  a  head  and  neck 
of  frosted  silver.  The  body  of  it  was  pad- 
ded outside  Avith  white  varnished  leather, 
and  inside  with  velvet  of  the  color  of  a  dove's 
breast.  The  robes  were  enormous  skins  of 
polar  bears,  lined  with  a  soft,  warm  fabric  of 
wool  and  silk.  The  harness  Avas  l)estrung 
with  little  silver  bells  of  most  musical  and 
merry  tone;  and  all  the  trappings  and  ac- 
coutrements were  superb.  Elodia  had  lux- 
urious tastes,  and  indulged  them. 

Every  day  Avejook  an  exhilarating  drive. 
The  two  deep,  comfortable  seats  faced  each 


60  TllnveiUnci  a  parallel. 

other  like  seats  in  a  hnulau.  Sevcrnius  and 
I  occupied  one,  and  Elodia  tlie  other;  so 
that  I  liad  the  pleasure  of  looking  at  her 
whenever  I  chose,  and  of  meeting-  her  eyes 
in  conversation  now  and  then,  which  was  no 
small  part  of  my  enjoyment.  'J^he  mere 
sight  of  iier  roused  the  imagination  and 
quickened  the  pulse.  Jler  e}es  were  un- 
usually dark,  Init  they  had  blue  rays,  and 
were  as  clear  and  beautiful  as  agates  held 
under  water.  In  fact  they  seemed  to  swim 
in  an  invisible  liquid.  Iler  complexion  had 
the  effect  of  alabaster  through  which  a  pink 
light  shines, —  deepest  in  the  cheeks,  as 
though  they  were  more  transparent  than 
the  rest  of  her  face.  Iler  head,  crowned 
with  a  fascinating  little  cap,  rose  above  her 
soft  furs  like  a  regal  llower.  She  was  so 
beautiful  that  I  wondered  at  m3'self  that  I 
could  bear  the  sight  of  her. 

Strange  to  say,  the  weather  Avas  not  cold, 
it  was  simply  bracing, —  hardly  severe  enough 
to  make  the  ears  tingle. 

The  roads  were  perfect  ever3^where,  and 
we  often  drove  into  the  country.     The  horses 


*Glnrc(lnui  a  (parallel.  61 

llcw  over  the  wide  white  stretches  at  an 
incredible  sjDced. 

One  afternoon  when,  at  the  usual  hour, 
the  coachman  rang-  the  bell  and  announced 
that  he  was  ready,  I  was  greatly  disap- 
pointed to  find  that  we  were  not  to  have 
Elodia.  But  I  said  nothing,  for  I  was  shy 
about  mentioning  her  name. 

AYhen  we  were  seated,  Severnius  gave 
directions  to  the  driver. 

"Time  yourself,  Giddo,  so  that  you  will 
be  at  the  Public  Square  at  precisely  three 
o'clock,"  said  he,  and  turned  to  me.  "  We 
shall  want  to  see  the  parade." 

"What  parade?  "     I  inquired. 

"Oh!  has  not  Elodia  told  you?  This  is 
The  Auroras'  Annual, —  a  gi'cat  day.  The 
parade  will  be  worth  seeing." 

In  the  excitement  of  the  drive,  and  in  my 
disappointment  about  not  having  Elodia 
Avith  us,  I  had  almost  foi-gotten  about  The 
Auroras'  Annual,  when  three  o'clock  came. 
I  had  seen  pai'ades  in  I^cw  York  City,  until 
the  spectacle  had  calloused  my  sense  of  the 
magnificent,    and    I    vciy    nuich     d()ii])ted 


G2  llnvcillim  a  parallel. 

wliether  ]Mans  had  anything  new  to  offer  me 
in  that  line. 

Punctual  to  tlie  minute,  Giddo  fetched  up 
at  the  Square, —  among  a  thousand  or  so  of 
other  turnouts, —  with  such  a  flourish  as  all 
Jehus  love.  We  were  not  a  second  too 
soon.  There  Avas  a  sudden  burst  of  music, 
infinitely  mellowed  by  distance;  and  as  far 
up  the  street  as  the  eye  could  Avell  reach 
there  appeared  a  mounted  procession,  ad- 
vancing slowly.  Every  charger  was  snow 
white,  with  crimped  mane  and  tail,  long  and 
flowing,  and  with  trappings  of  various 
colors  magnificent  in  silver  blazonry. 

The  nuisicians  only  were  on  foot.  They 
were  beating  n])()u  drums  and  blowing 
transcendent  airs  thi'ough  silver  wind  in- 
struments. I  do  not  know  Avhether  it  was 
some  quality  of  the  atmosphere  that  made 
the  strains  so  ravishing,  but  they  swept 
OA'cr  one's  soid  with  a  raptiu-e  that  Avas  al- 
most painful.  I  could  hardly  sit  still,  but 
I  was  held  down  by  the  thought  that  if  I 
should  get  np  I  Avould  not  know  Avhat  to  do. 
It  is  a  ])ecidiar  sensation. 

On   came  the    resplendent    column  Avith 


TUnvcilinii  a  parallel.  63 

slow,  majestic  movement;  and  I  iincoii- 
sciously  kept  time  with  the  drmns,  with 
Brownin^-'s  stately  lines  on  my  tong'ue, 
but  unspoken: 

"  Steady  they  step  adowii  the  slope, 
Steady  they  climb  the  hill." 

There  Avas  no  liill,  but  a  very  slight  de- 
scent. As  they  drew  nearer  the  splendor 
of  the  varions  imiCorms  dazzled  my  eyes. 
You  will  remember  that  everything  about  us 
was  Avhite;  the  buildings  all  of  Avhite  stone 
or  brick,  the  ground  covered  witli  snow, 
and  the  crowds  of  people  lining  the  streets 
all  dressed  in  the  national  coh>i-,  or  no- 
color. 

There  were  several  companies  in  the 
procession,  and  each  company  w(M'e  distin- 
guishing badges  and  carried  Hags  and 
banners  peculiar  to  itself. 

The  housings  on  the  horses  of  the  first 
brigade  Avei'e  of  yellow,  and  all  the  decora- 
tions of  the  riders  corresponded;  of  the 
second  pale  blue,  and  of  the  third  sky-piid<. 
The  uniforms  of  the  I'iders  were  inconct'iv- 
ably  splendid;  fantastic  and  gorgeous  head- 


64  "ClnveilinG  a  Parallel. 

gear,  glittering  belts,  silken  scarfs  and 
sashes,  badges  and  medals  flashing  with 
gems,  and  brilliant  colors  twisted  into 
strange  and   cnrious  devices. 

As  the  first  division  was  about  to  pass,  I 
lost  my  gri})  on  myself  and  half  started  to 
my  feet  Avith  a  smothered  exclamation, 
"Elodia!" 

Severnins  pnt  out  his  hand  as  though  he 
were  afraid  I  was  going  to  leap  out  of  the 
sleigh,  or  do  something  unusual. 

"What  is  it?"  he  cried,  and  following  my 
gaze  he  added, "  Yes,  that  is  Elodia  in 
front;  she  is  the  Sui)reme  Sorceress  of  the 
Order  of  the  Auroras." 

"The  — zo/ia/5.^" 

"Don't  be  frightened,"  he  laughed;  "the 
word  means  nothing,  —  it  is  only  a  title." 

I  could  not  believe  him  when  I  looked  at 
the  advancing  figure  of  Elodia.  She  sat 
her  horse  splendidly  erect.  Her  fair  head 
was  crowned  with  a  superb  diadem  of  gold 
and  topazes,  with  a  diamond  star  in  the  cen- 
tre, shooting  rays  like  the  sun.  Her  ex- 
pression was  grave  and  lofty;  she  glanced 
neither  to  right  nor  left,  but  gazed  straight 


■Qlnveiling  a  parallel.  65 

ahead  —  at  nothing,  or  at  ,s<)niethin<^  infin- 
itely beyond  nioi'tal  viyion.  ITer  hoi-se 
champed  its  bits,  arched  its  beautiful  neck, 
and  stepped  with  conscious  pride;  dangling' 
the  gold  fringe  on  its  slieeny  yellow  satin 
saddle-cloth,  until  one  could  hardly  bear  the 
sight. 

"  The  words  mean  nothing!"  I  repeated 
to  myself.  "It  is  not  so;  Severnius  has  de- 
ceived me.  His  sister  is  a  sorceress;  a  —  I 
don't  know  what!  But  no  woman  could 
preserve  that  majestic  mien,  that  proud 
solenmity  of  countenanc-e,  if  she  were  sim- 
})ly  —  playing!     There  is  a  mysteiy  here." 

I  scrutinized  every  rider  as  they  passed. 
There  w^as  not  a  man  among  them,- — all 
women.  Their  faces  had  all  borrowed,  or 
had  tried  to  borrow,  Elodia's  queenly  look. 
Many  of  them  only  burlesqued  it.  I^one 
were  as  beautiful  as  she. 

^Ylien  it  was  all  over,  and  the  mnsic  had 
died  away  in  the  distance,  we  drove  off,  — 
Giddo  threading  his  way  with  consnnnnate 
skill,  which  redounded  much  to  his  gloiy  in 
certain  circles  he  cared  for,  through  the 
crowded  thoroughfares. 


66  IllnreUinii  a  parallel. 

I  could  not  speak  I'oi-  many  niimites,  and 
Severnins  was  a  man  npon  Avliom  Hilence 
always  fell  at  the  rii^lit  time.  I  never 
kncAV  him  to  l^i'cak  in  n[)on  another's  mood 
for  his  own  entertainment.  ]S'or  did  he  spy 
iip(m  yonr  thoughts;  he  left  you  free. 
By-and-by,  I  appealed  to  him: 

"  Tell  me,  Severnins,  what  does  it  mean?  " 

"  This  celebration  V  "  returned  he.  "  With 
pleasure.  Giddo,  yim  may  drive  round  for 
half  an  hoiu*,  and  then  take  us  to  the 
Auroras'  Temple,  —  it  is  open  to  visitors 
to-day." 

We  drew  the  robes  closely,  and  settled 
ourselves  moi'e  comfortably,  as  we  cleared 
the  skirts  of  the  crowd.  It  was  grooving 
late  and  the  air  was  filled  with  fine  arrows 
of  frost,  touched  by  the  last  sunbeams, — 
their  sharp  little  points  stinging  om*  faces 
as  we  were  borne  along  at  our  usual  lively 
speed. 

"This  society  of  the  Auroras,"  said  Se- 
vernins, "originated  several  centuries  ago,  in 
the  time  of  a  great  famine.  In  those  days 
the  people  were  poor  and  im])rovident,  and 
a  single  failure  in  their  cro])s  left  them  in  a 


■Qlnvdlinfl  a  parallel.  67 

sorry  condition.  Some  of  the  wealthiest 
women  of  the  country  banded  themselves 
together  and  worked  systematically  for  the 
relief  of  tiie  sufferers.  'J'lieir  faces  a})peared 
so  beautiful,  and  beamed  with  such  a  light 
of  salvation  as  they  Avent  about  from  hut  to 
hut,  that  they  got  the  name  of  ^auroras' 
among  the  simple  poor.  And  the}^  banished 
want  and  hunger  so  magically,  that  they 
were  also  called  ^sorcerers'." 

"O,  then,  it  is  a  charitable  organization?"' 
I  exclaimed,  much  relieved. 

"It  was,"  replied  Severnius.  "It  was  in 
active  oj^eration  for  a  hundred  or  so  years. 
Finally,  when  there  was  no  more  need  of 
it,  the  State  having  imderlaken  tlie  care  of 
its  poor,  it  passed,  into  a  sentiment,  such  as 
you  have  seen  to-day." 

"  A  very  costly  and  elaborate  sentiment," 
I  retorted. 

"Yes,  audit  is  growing  more  so,  all  the 
time,"  said  he.  "I  sometimes  Avonder  where 
it  is  going  to  stop!  For  those  who,  like 
Elodia,  have  plenty  of  money,  it  does  not 
matter;  but  some  of  the  Avomen  Ave  saAv  in 
those  costly  rol3es  and  ornaments  can  ill  af- 


68  1Hnvcilin0  a  parallel. 

I'oi'd  llu-in,  —  lluy  ]iK';iii  less  of  coinloit  in 
Iheir  lionu'S  and  less  of  culture  to  their 
children." 

"  I  should  think  their  hushands  Avould 
not  allow  such  a  waste  of  money,"  I  said, 
forgetting  the  social  economy  of  Mars. 

"It  does  not  cost  any  more  than  member- 
ship in  the  orders  to  which  the  hnsbands 
themselves  belong,"  returned  he.  "They 
argue,  of  course,  that  they  need  the  recrea- 
tion, and  also  that  membership  in  such  high- 
toned  clnljs  gives  them  and  their  children  a 
better  standing  and  greater  influence  in 
society." 

Severnius  did  not  foi'get  his  usual  cor- 
ollary,—  the  question  with  which  he  topped 
out  every  explanation  he  made  about  his 
country  and  people. 

"  Have  you  nothing  of  the  sort  on  the 
Earth?"  he  asked. 

"Among  the  Avomen?  —  we  have  not,"  I 
answered. 

"  I  did  not  specify,"  he  said. 

"  O,  Avell,  the  men  have, "  I  admitted ;  "  I 
belong  to  one  such  organization  myself, — 
the  City  Guards." 


TUnvclUna  a  Iparallel.  C9 

'■  And  3'on  g-iinrd  llic  city?" 

"Xo:  there  is  iiothinji:  to  i>'iiai-(I  it  .li^ainst 
at  jH'GScnit.     It's  a  '  sentiment,' as  yon  say." 

'^And  do  yon  ])ai-ade?" 

"Yes,  of  conrse,  ni)on  occasion, —  there 
are  certain  g'reat  amiiversaries  in  our  na- 
tion's histoiy  when  we  a])pear." 

^'And  wliy  not  yonr  AvomenV" 

I  smiled  to  myself,  as  I  tried  to  fancy 
some  oC  the  I^ew  York  ladies  I  knew, 
arrayed  in  gorgeous  habiliments  for  an 
eqnestrian  exhibition  on  Broadway.  I  re- 
plied, 

^^Keally,  Severnins,  the  idea  is  entirely 
new  to  me.  I  think  they  would  regard  it  as 
highly  absurd.'' 

"Do  they  regard  you  as  absurd?"  he 
asked,  in  that  way  of  his  Avhich  I  was  often 
in  doubt  al)out,  not  knowing"  whether  he  Avas 
in  earnest  or  not. 

"I'm  sure  I  do  not  know,"  I  said.  "They 
ma}, —  our  women  have  a  keen  I'elish  for 
the  ludicrous.  Still,  I  cannot  think  that 
they  do;  they  aj)pear  to  look  upou  us  with 
t)i'i(le.  And  they  ])ivsent  us  Avitli  au  clal)- 
orate     silken    ])anner    about    once    a    year, 


70  innvdling  a  iparallcl. 

stitched  together  l^y  tlieir  own  fair  fingers 
and  paid  for  ont  of  their  oAvn  pocket  money. 
That  does  not  look  as  tliongh  they  weva 
Laughing  at  us  exactly." 

I  said  this  as  much  to  convince  nl3^self 
as  Severnius. 

The  half-hour  was  up  and  Ave  were  at  the 
Temple  gate.  The  building,  somewhat  iso- 
lated, reared  itself  before  us,  a  gi-and  con- 
ception in  chiseled  marble,  glinting  in  the 
l^rilliant  lights  shot  upon  it  fi'om  various 
high  points.  Already  it  was  dai'k  beyond 
the  radius  of  these  lights, —  neither  of  the 
moons  having  yet  appeared. 

Severnius  dismissed  the  sleigh,  saying 
that  we  would  walk  home,  —  the  distance 
was  not  flu",  —  and  we  entered  the  grounds 
and  proceeded  to  mount  the  flight  of  broad 
steps  leading  up  to  the  magnificent  arched 
entrance.  The  great  carved  doors,  —  the 
carvings  were  emblematic,  —  sAA^uig  back  and 
admitted  us.  The  Temple  was  splendidl}' 
illuminated  withm,  and  imagination  c(mld 
not  picture  anything  more  imposing  than 
the  great  central  hall  and  winding  stairs, 
visible  all  the  way  up  to  the  dome. 


TUnvefUnfl  a  iparallel.  71 

Below,  on  one  side  of  tliis  lofty  liall,  there 
were  extensive  and  luxurious  bntlis.  Se- 
vernius  said  the  meml)ers  of  the  Order 
were  fond  of  congregating  here, —  and.  I 
did  not  wonder  at  that;  nothing  that  ap- 
pertains to  such  an  cstal)lishment  was 
laelving.  Chairs  and  sofas  that  we  would 
call  ''"  Turkisli,''  tliick,  soft  rugs  and  carpets, 
pictures,  statuaiy,  mirrors,  growing  plants, 
rare  flowers,  Ixxd^s,  nnisical  iustruuients. 
And  Severn i us  told  me  the  waters  were 
delightful  for  bathing. 

The  second  story  consisted  of  a  series  of 
spacious  roouis  divided  from  each  otlier  by 
costly  j)ortieres,  into  which  the  various 
emblems  and  devices  were  woven  in  their 
pro])er  tinctures. 

All  of  these  I'ooms  were  as  sumptuously 
furnished  as  those  counected  witli  the  baths ; 
and  the  decoi-atious,  I  tliought,  wei-e  even 
more  beautiful,  of  a  little  higher  or  finer 
order. 

In  one  of  the  rooms  a  lady  was  playing 
upon  an  instrument  resembling  a  harj). 
She  di'o])ped  hvv  hands  from  the  strings 
and  came  forward  graciously. 


72  "Qlnpeiliiui  n  parallel. 

"Perliaps  avc  are  intruding?"  said  So- 
vernius. 

"Ah, no,  indeed,"  she  laughed,  pleasantly; 
"  no  one  could  be  more  welcome  hei-e  than 
the  brother  of  our  Supreme  Sorceress !" 

"IIa])py  the  man  who  has  a  disthiguished 
sister! "  returned  he. 

"I  am  unfortunate,"  she  answered  with  a 
slight  blush.  "  Severnius  is  always  wel- 
come for  his  own  sake." 

lie  acknowledged  tlie  ccmipliment,  and 
with  a  certain  reluctance,  I  thought,  said, 
"AVill  you  allow  me,  Claris,  to  introduce 
my  friend  —  from  another  ])lnnet?" 

She  took  a  smft  step  toward  iiie  and  lield 
out  her  hand. 

"  I  have  long  had  a  great  curiosity  to  meet 
you,  sir,"  she  said. 

I  bowed  low  over  her  hand  and  nmniuired 
that  her  curiosity  could  not  possibly  equal 
the  pleasure  1  felt  in  meeting  her. 

She  gjive  Severnius  a  quick,  questioning 
lo(dv.  I  believe  she  thouglit  he  had  lold  me 
something  about  her.  lie  let  her  think 
what  she  liked. 

"How  is  it  vou  ai-e  here?"  he  asked. 


TUnvcUliHi  a  pnrallel.  "-^ 

'*You  mean  instead  of  l)eiii^  with  the 
others?"  she  retiuvued.  "I  have  not  been 
well  lately,  and  I  thought  —  or  my  hnsband 
thonglil  — I  had  hetter  not  join  the  proces- 
sion.    1  am  awaiting  them  here." 

As  she  s])oke,  I  noticed  that  .she  was 
ratlier  delicate  looking.  She  was  tall  and 
slight,  with  large,  bright  eyes,  and  a 
trans[)Mi'ent  comi)lexion.  If  l']lodia  had  not 
filled  all  s]jace  in  my  consciousness  I  tliink 
T  shoidd  have  been  consideral)ly  interested 
in  her.  I  liked  her  frank,  direct  w^ay  of 
meeting  ns  and  talking  to  ns.  We  soon 
left  her  and  continued  onr  explorations. 

I  wanted  to  ask  Severnins  something 
about  her,  but  I  thought  he  avoided  tlu! 
subject,  lie  told  me,  hoAvevei-,  that  her 
husband,  Massiiia,  was  one  of  his  closest 
friends.  And  then  he  added,  ^'I  wonder 
that  she  took  his  advice!  " 

"Why  so,"  I  asked;  ^'do  not  Avomen  here 
cA'er  take  their  hnsbands'  advice?" 

"Claris  is  not  in  the  hal)it  of  doing  so," 
he  returned  with,  I  thought,  some  severity. 
And  then  he  innnediately  s])oke  of  some- 
thing else  quite  foreign  to   her. 


74  'Clnvcilino  a  parallel. 

The  third  and  last  story  comprised  an  im- 
mense hall  or  assembly  room,  and  rows  of 
dt't'p  closets  for  the  robes  and  paraphernalia 
of  the  members  of  the  Order.  In  one  of 
these  closets  a  skeleton  was  suspendcnl  from 
the  ceiling  and  underneath  it  stood  a  cofhn. 
On  a  shelf  w^'re  three  skulls  wnth  their  ac- 
companying cross-bones,  and  several  cruel- 
looking  weapons. 

Severnius  said  he  supposed  these  hid- 
eous tokens  were  employed  in  the  initia- 
tion of  new  members.  It  seemed  incredible. 
I  thought  that,  if  it  were  so,  the  JVIarsian 
women  must  have  stronger  nerves  than 
ours. 

A  great  many  beautiful  marble  columns 
and  pillars  sui)])orted  the  roof  of  the  hall, 
and  the  walls  had  a  curiously  lluted  appear- 
ance. There  was  a  great  deal  of  scTd])lure, 
not  only  figures,  but  flowers,  vines,  and  all 
manner  of  decorations,  —  even  di-aperies 
chiseled  in  marble  that  looked  like  frozen 
lace,  with  an  awfid  stillness  in  their  ghostly 
folds.  Thci-e  was  a  magnificent  cano])ied 
tin-one  on  an  elevation  like  an  old-fashioned 
pul})it,  and  scats  for  satellites  on  eitlier  side, 


TUnvcfUnfl  a  parallel.  7o 

and  at  the  base.  If  I  had  been  alone,  I 
wonkl  liave  gone  np  and  knelt  down  before 
the  throne,  —  for  of  conrsc  that  was  whei-e 
Elodia  8at,  —  and  I  w^ould  have  kissed  the 
yellow  cushion  on  which  her  feet  were  w  ont 
to  rest  when  she  wielded  her  jew^eled  sce])- 
ter.  The  scepter,  I  observed,  lay  on  the 
throne-chair. 

There  was  an  orchestra,  and  there  were 
"stations"  for  the  various  officials,  and  the 
walls  w^ere  adorned  wdth  innumerable  cabal- 
istic insignia.  I  asked  Severnins  if  he 
laiew^  the  meaning  of  any  of  them. 

"How  should  I  know^V  "  he  replied  in  sur- 
prise. "Only  the  initiates  understand  those 
things." 

"  Then  these  women  keep  their  secrets," 
said  I. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure  they  do,"  he  replied. 

The  apartment  to  the  right,  on  the 
entrance  floor,  opposite  the  baths,  was 
the  last  we  looked  into,  and  w^as  a  magnifi- 
cent banrpiet  hall.  A  servant  Avho  stood 
near  the  door  opened  it  as  though  it  liad 
been  the  door  of  a  sln-ine,  and  no  wondei"! 
It  was  a  noble  rooui  in  its  dimensions  and 


76  TUnveilinii  a  parallel. 

ill  all  its  unparalleled  adoniiiK'iil.s  and  ap- 
l)iiitenancc's. 

The  walls  and  ceiling'  bristled  with  caii- 
delal)ra  all  alight.  The  tables,  net  for  a  baii- 
qnet,  held  everything  that  could  charm  the 
eye  or  tempt  the  api)etite  in  siieli  a  place. 

I  observed  a  gi*eat  many  inverted  stem- 
glasses  of  various  exquisite  styles  and  ])at- 
terns,  including  the  thin,flaiMng  goblets,  as 
delicate  as  a  lily-cup,  Avhicli  mean  the  same 
thing  to  IVIarsians  as  to  us. 

"  Do  these  women  drink  champagne  at 
their  banquets?"  I  asked,  with  a  frown. 

^'O,  yes,"  replied  Severnius.  "A banquet 
Avoidd  be  rather  tame  without,  woukbrt  it? 
The  Aiu'oras  are  not  nnich  given  to  drink, 
ordinarily,  l)ut  on  occasions  like  this  they 
are  liable  to  indulge  pretty  freely." 

"Is  it  possible!"  I  could  say  no  more 
than  this,  and  Severnius  went  on: 

"  The  Aiu'oras,  you  see,  are  the  cream  of  our 
society, —  the  elite, —  jind  costly  drinks  are 
ty])ical,  in  a  way,  of  the  highest  refinement. 
Do  you  peo])le  never  drink  Avine  at  your 
social  gatherings?" 

^^The    men    do,    of    course,    but    not    the 


•mnvctlituT  a  Iparallcl.  77 

women,"'  I  i-('])lic'(l  in  ;i  toiu'  which  the  whole 
coiiiinoiiweahh  of  Paleveria  iniglit  liave 
taken  as  a  i"el)nke. 

"Ah,  I  feai-  1  shall  never  l)e  able  to  i\u- 
derstand!  "  said  he.  "It  is  very  coni'nsing- 
to  my  mind,  this  having*  two  codes — social 
as  well  as  political  —  to  apply  separately  to 
members  of  an  identical  commnnity.  I 
don't  see  how  you  can  draw  the  line  so 
shar})ly.  It  is  like  having  two  distinct 
currents  in  a  river-bed.  ])on't  the  waters 
ever  get  mixed?" 

"You  are  facetious,"  I  returned,  coldly. 

"ISTo,  really,  I  am  in  earnest,"  said  he. 
"Do  no  women  in  your  country  ever  do 
these  things, —  i)arade  and  drink  wine,  and 
the  like,  —  which  you  say  you  men  are  not 
above  doing?" 

I  replied  with  considerable  energy: 

"  I  have  never  before  to-day  seen  women 
of  any  sort  dress  themselves  up  in  conspic- 
uous uniforms  and  exhil)it  themselves  ])ul)- 
licly  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  being  seen 
and  making  a  sensation,  except  in  circuses. 
And  cii'cus  Avomen,  — well,  they  don't  count. 
And  of  course  we  have   a  class  of  women 


78  "Ulnvcilinii  a  iparallcl. 

Avho  cnifk  chainpagne  bottles  and  even 
quaff  other  fiery  liquors  as  freely  as  men, 
but  I  do  not  need  to  tell  you  what  kind  of 
creatures  those  ai'e." 

At  that  moment  there  Avei-e  sounds  of 
trami)ing'  feet  outside,  and  the  oi'ehestra 
filed  in  at  the  farther  end  of  the  i<alon  and 
to(dv  their  plaees  on  a  high  dais.  At  a  given 
signal  every  instrument  was  in  position  and 
the  music  burst  fortli,  and  simultaneously 
the  banqueters  began  to  march  in.  They 
had  put  off  their  heavy  outside  garments 
but  retained  their  ornaments  and  insignia. 
Their  white  necks  and  arms  gleamed  be- 
witchingly  through  silvered  lace.  They 
moved  to  their  places  without  the  least  jost- 
ling or  awkwardness,  their  every  step  and 
motion  i)roving  their  high  cultivation  and 
grace. 

"AVe  must  get  out  of  here,"  whispered 
Severnius  in  some  consternation.  But  a 
squad  of  servants  clogged  the  doorway 
and  we  were  crowded  backAvard,  and  in  the 
interest  of  self-preservation  Ave  took  refuge 
in   a  small  alcove   behind  a   screen  of  tall 


"Glnveditui  a  iParallcl.  79 

hot-house  phmts  with  enoniioiis  leaves  and 
fronds. 

"Good  heavens!  what  shall  we  do?" 
cried  Severnius,  beginning  to  perspire. 

"Let  us  sit  down/'  said  I,  who  saw  noth- 
ing very  dreadful  in  the  situation  except 
that  it  was  warm,  and  the  odor  of  the  IjIos- 
soms  in  front  of  us  was  overpowering. 
There  was  a  bench  in  the  alcove,  and  we 
seated  ourselves  upon  it,  —  I  with  much 
comfort,  for  it  was  a  little  cooler  down 
there,  and  my  companion  with  much  fear. 

"Would  it  be  a  disgrace  if  Ave  were  found 
here?"  I  asked. 

"I  w^ould  not  be  foimd  here  for  the 
world!  "  replied  Severnius,  "It  would  not 
Ijc  a  disgrace,  but  it  woidd  be  considered 
highly  improper.  Or,  to  put  it  so  that 
you  can  l)etter  understand  it,  it  would  be  the 
same  as  though  they  were  men  and  w^e 
women." 

"  That  is  clear !  "  said  I ;  and  I  pictured  to 
myself  two  charming  JSTew  York  girls  of  my 
acquaintance  secreting  themselves  in  a  hall 
where  we  City  Guards  were  holding  a  ban- 
fptit,— ye  gods! 


80  TIlnvciliiHi  a  parallel. 

A.s  tlie  feast  i)i-()greysLHl,  and  as  my  senses 
wei'e  almost  swept  away  hy  the  scent  of 
tlie  ilowers,  I  sometimes  lialf  fancied  tliat 
it  wa.'^  the  City  Gnards  wlio  were  seated  at 
tlie  ta])les. 

Dni'ing  tlie  first  half-hour  everything  was 
carried  on  with  <:;reat  dignity,  speakers 
being  introduced  —  this  occurred  in  the  in- 
terim l)etween  conrses  —  in  proper  ordei-, 
and  responding  with  graceful  and  Avell-pre- 
])ared  remarks,  which  were  suitably  ap- 
plauded. But  after  the  glasses  had  been 
emptied  a  time  or  two  all  around,  there 
came  a  change  Avith  which  I  was  very  famil- 
iar. Jokes  abounded  and  jolly  little  songs 
were  sung, —  O,  uothing  you  would  take  ex- 
ception to,  you  know,  if  they  had  been  men ; 
but  women!  beautiful,  cultivated,  charming 
women,  with  eyes  like  stars,  with  cheeks 
that  matched  the  dawn,  with  lips  that  you 
would  have  liked  to  kiss!  And  more  than 
this:  the  preservers  of  our  ideals,  the  in- 
terpreters of  our  faith,  the  keepers  of  our 
consciences !  I  felt  as  th(mgh  my  tradition- 
ary idols    were    shattered,  until  I  remem- 


TUnveiUng  a  (parallel.  81 

berecl  that  these  were  not  my  country- 
women, thank  heaven ! 

Severnius  was  not  at  all  surprised ;  he  took 
it  all  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  was  chiefly 
concerned  about  how  we  were  going  to  get 
out  of  there.  It  was  more  easily  accom- 
plished than  we  could  have  imagined.  The 
elegant  candelabra  were  a  cunningly  con- 
trived system  of  electric  lights,  and,  as 
sometimes  happens  with  us,  they  went  out 
suddenly  and  left  the  place  in  darkness  for 
a  few  con^'enient  seconds.  "  Quick,  now ! " 
cried  Severnius  with  a  bound,  and  there 
was  just  time  for  us  to  make  our  escape. 
AYe  had  barely  reached  the  outer  door  when 
the  whole  building  was  ablaze  again. 

Severnius  offered  no  comments  on  the 
events  of  the  evening,  except  to  say  we 
were  lucky  to  get  out  as  we  did,  and  of 
course  I  made  none.  At  my  suggestion  we 
sto2iped  at  the  observatory  and  spent  a  few 
hours  there.  Lost  among  the  stars,  my  soul 
recovered  its  equilibrium.  I  have  found  that 
little  things  cease  to  fret  when  I  can  lift  my 
thoughts  to  great  things. 

It  must  have  been  near  morning  when  I 


82  llnvcilinii  a  iParallcl. 

was  awakened  Ijy  llio  jingling  of  belLs,  and 
a  sleigh  driving  into  the  jwrte  cochere.  A 
few  moments  later  I  heard  Elodia  and  her 
maid  eoming  np  the  stairs.  Her  maid  at- 
tended her  everywhere,  and  stationed  her- 
self abont  hive  a  dnmmy.  She  was  the  sign 
always  that  Elodia  was  not  far  olf;  and  I  am 
snre  she  Avonld  have  laid  down  her  life  for 
her  mistress,  and  wonld  have  snffered  her 
tonu'iie  to  be  cnt  ont  before  she  wonld  have 
betrayed  her  secrets.  I  tell  you  this  to  show 
you  what  a  power  of  fascination  Elodia  pos- 
sessed; she  seemed  a  being  to  l)e  woi-shiped 
by  high  and  Ioav. 

Severnius  and  I  ate  our  breakfast  alone 
the  following  morning.  The  Supreme  Sor- 
ceress did  not  get  uj),  nor  did  she  go  down 
town  to  attend  to  business  at  all  during  the 
day.  At  Inneh  time  she  sent  her  maid  down 
to  tell  Severnius  that  she  had  a  headache. 

'H^nite  likely,"  he  returned,  as  the  girl 
delivered  her  message;  "but  I  am  sorry  to 
hear  it.  If  there  is  anything  I  can  do  for 
her,  tell  her  to  let  me  know." 

The  girl  made  her  obeisance  and  viin- 
ished. 


■mnvciltiui  a  ipaiallcl.  ^3 

"We  liave  to  ])ay  for  our  fun/'  said  Se- 
vern ius  with  a  sigh. 

"I  should  not  think  your  sister  would 
indulge  in  such  ^  fun'  ! "  I  retorted  as  a 
kind  of  relief  to  my  hurt  sensibilities,  I 
was  so  cruelly  disappointed  in  Elodia. 

"Why  my  sister  in  particular?  "  retm-ned 
he  with  a  look  of  surprise. 

"  Well,  of  course,  I  mean  all  those  women, 
—  why  do  they  do  such  things?  It  is  un- 
womanly, it  —  it  is  disgraceful ! " 

I  coidd  not  keep  the  word  back,  and  for 
the  first  time  I  saw  a  flash  of  anger  in  my 
friend's  eyes. 

"Come,"  said  he,  "you  must  not  talk  like 
that!  That  term  may  have  a  different  sig- 
nification to  you,  but  with  us  it  means  an 
insult." 

I  quickly  begged  his  pardon  and  tried  to 
exi)lain  to  him. 

"Our  women,"  T  said,  "never  do  things  of 
that  sort,  as  1  have  told  you.  They  have  no 
taste  for  them  and  no  inclination  in  that  di- 
i-ection, —  it  is  against  their  very  natui'c. 
And  if  you  will  forgive  me  for  saying  so,  1 
camiot  but  think  that  such  indulgence  as  we 


•"^4  •UlnveUino  a  iParallcl. 

wiliu'ssed  last  night  must  coarsen  a  woman's 
spiritual  liljre  and  dull  the  fine  moral  sense 
which  is  so  highly  developed  in  lier." 

"Excuse  me,"  interposed  Severnius. 
"You  have  shoAvn  me  in  the  case  of  your 
own  sex  that  hnman  natui'e  is  the  sauie  on 
the  Earth  that  it  is  on  Mars.  You  wonhl 
not  have  me  think  that  there  are  two  varie- 
ties of  lunnan  nature  on  your  jihnict,  corres- 
ponding with  the  sexes,  woidd  you?  You 
say  ^woman's'  spiritual  fihre  and  fine  moral 
sense,  as  though  she  had  an  exclusive  title  to 
those  qualities.  My  dear  sii",  it  is  impossi- 
ble! you  are  all  born  of  Wf)nian  and  are  one 
ilesli  and  one  blood,  whether  you  are  male 
or  female.  I  admit  all  you  say  about  the  un- 
wholesome influence  of  such  indulgence  as 
wiue  drinking,  late  lioui's,  questionable 
stories  and  songs, —  a  night's  deljaueh,  in 
fact,  which  it  requires  days  sometimes  to 
recover  from, —  but  I  nuist  apply  it  to  nK>n 
as  well  as  women;  neither  are  at  their  best 
under  such  conditious.  I  think,"  he  went 
on,  "that  I  begin  to  uuderstand  the  distinc- 
tion Avhich  you  have  curiou sly  mi  staken  for 
a  radical  difference.     Yoiu'  women,  you  say, 


"Glnvdlfno  a  iparaUel.  ^-'^ 

have  alway.s  been  in  a  state  of  scmi-siibjee- 
tion— " 

"No,  no,"  T  ciied,  "T  never  said  so!  On 
the  conti-nry,  they  liold  the  very  highest 
place  "with  ns;  they  are  honored  Avitli  chiv- 
alrous devotion,  cared  for  with  the  tenderest 
consideration.  AYe  men  are  their  slaves,  in 
reality,  though  they  call  us  their  lords;  we 
work  for  them,  endure  hardships  for  them, 
give  them  all  that  we  can  of  wealth,  luxury, 
ease.  And  we  defend  them  from  danger 
and  save  them  every  annoyance  in  our 
power.  They  are  the  queens  of  our  hearts 
and  homes." 

"That  may  all  be,"  he  replied  coolly,  "but 
3^ou  admit  that  they  have  always  been  denied 
their  political  rights,  and  it  follows  that 
their  social  rights  should  be  similarly  limited. 
Long  abstiuence  from  the  indulgences  which 
you  regard  as  purely  masculine,  has  re- 
sulted iu  a  habit  merely,  not  a  change  in 
their  nature." 

"Then  thank  hea\'en  for  their  absti- 
nence!" T  exclaimed. 

'"'' Tliat  is  all  very  well,"  he  ])ersisted,  "but 
you  must  concede  that  in  the  first  place  it 


8C  IllnvdUng  a  Iparallel. 

was  forced  upon  them,  and  that  was  an  in- 
justice, because  tliey  were  intelligent  beings 
and  yonr  e(iuals." 

"They  ought  to  thank  us  for  the  injustice, 
then,"  I  retoi'ted. 

"I  beg  your  pardon!  they  ought  not. 
IS^o  doubt  they  are  very  lovely  and  innocent 
beings,  and  that  your  a\ orld  is  the  better  for 
them.  But  they,  being  restricted  in  other 
wa}  s  by  man's  authority,  or  his  wishes,  or 
by  fear  of  his  disfavor  perhai)s,  have  acquired 
these  gentle  qualities  at  the  expense  of  —  or 
in  the  place  of — others  more  essential  to  the 
foundation  of  character;  I  mean  sti-ength, 
dignity,  self-i'espect,  and  that  which  you 
once  attributed  to  my  sister, — responsi- 
bility." 

I  was  bursting  with  indignant  things 
which  T  kinged  to  say,  but  my  position  was 
delicate,  and  I  bit  my  tongue  and  was  silent. 

I  will  tell  you  one  thing,  my  heai't  Avarmcd 
toward  ni}^  gentle  countiy women !  AYith  all 
their  follies  and  frivolities,  Avith  all  theii-  in- 
consistencies and  iniaccountable  Ava^-s,  their 
whimsical  fancies  and  petty  tempers,  their 
emotions    and    their    suscej^tibiUty  to  new 


•Ulnvcilino  a  parallel.  ^' 

isms  and  religions,  they  still  reja-esented  my 
highest  and  best  ideals.  And  1  thought  of 
Elodia,  sick  npstairs  from  her  last  night's 
carousal,  with  contempt. 


(Tbaptcr  4. 

ELODIA. 

"If  to  her  lot  some  female  errors  fall, 

Look  to  her  face  and  you'll  forget  them  all." — Pope. 

My  contempt  for  Elodia  vanished  at  the 
liivst  intimation  of  lier  ])re.senee.  I  had 
expected  to  meet  her  with  an  air  of  cokl 
superiority,  but  wlien  she  entered  the  din- 
ing-room that  evening  Avith  lier  usual  care- 
less aphjuih,  tlie  ghmce  with  which  she 
favored  me  rechiced  me  to  my  customary 
attitude  toward  her, —  that  of  unquestioning 
admiration.  Oiu*  ])liysical  natiuv  is  Aveak, 
and  this  Avoman  dominated  my  senses  com- 
})letely,  Avith  her  1)eauty,  Avith  her  meh)dious 
voice,  her  singular  magnetic  attraction,  and 
every  casual  expression  of  her  face. 

On  that  particular  CAcning,  her  dress  AA^as 
more  than  ordinarily  becoming,  I  thought. 


XHnvdlinG  a  (parallel.  89 

She  had  left  off  some  of  the  draperies  she 
usually  wore  a])out  her  shoulders,  and  her 
round,  perfeet  waist  was  more  fully  disclosed 
iu  outline.  She  was  somewhat  pale,  and  her 
eyes  seemed  larger  and  darker  than  their 
wont,  and  had  deeper  shadows.  And  a  cer- 
tain air  of  languor  that  hung  about  her  was 
an  added  gi*ace.  She  had,  however,  re- 
covered sufKciently  from  the  dissipations  of 
the  day  before  to  make  herself  uncommonly 
agreeable,  and  I  never  felt  in  a  greater 
degree  the  charm  and  stinuilus  of  her 
presence  and  conversation. 

After  dinner  she  ])receded  us  into  the 
parlor, —  which  Avas  unusual,  for  she  was 
always  too  sparing  of  her  society,  and  the 
most  we  saw  of  her  was  at  dinner  or  luueheon 
time, —  and  crossed  over  to  an  alcove  where 
stood  a  large  and  costly  harp  whose  strings 
she  knew  well  how  to  thrum. 

"Elodia,  you  have  never  sung  for  our 
friend,''  said  Severnius. 

V  She  shook  her  head,  and  letting  her  eyes 
rest  upon  me  half-unconsciously — almost 
as  if  I  were  not  there  in  fact,  for  she  had  a 
peculiar  way  of  looking  at  yon  without  act- 


90  innveHind  a  parallel. 

iially  seein^'  yoii, —  she  went  on  picking  ont 
the  air  she  had  started  to  j)hiy.  I  subjoined 
a l)eseeching  look  toiler  l)rother's  .sug'g'estive 
remark,  bnt  was  not  sure  she  noted  it.  But 
presently  she  began  to  sing  and  I  dropped 
into  a  chair  and  sat  spell-lxunid.  Her  voice 
was  sweet,  with  a  quality  that  stirred  un- 
wonted feelings;  but  it  was  not  that  alone. 
As  she  stood  there  in  the  majesty  of  her 
gracious  womanhood,  her  exquisite  figure 
showing  at  its  best,  her  eyes  uplifted  and  a 
something  that  meant  power  radiating  from 
her  whole  being,  I  felt  that,  do  what  she 
might,  she  Avas  still  the  grandest  civatui-e  in 
that  world  to  me! 

Soon  after  she  had  finished  her  song, 
while  I  was  still  in  the  thrall  of  it,  a  servant 
entered  the  room  with  a  packet  for  Sever- 
nius,  who  opened  and  read  it  with  evident 
surprise  and  delight. 

"Elodia ! "  he  cried,  "those  friends  of  mine, 
those  Caskians  from  Liniismar,  are  coming 
to  make  ns  a  visit." 

*"  Indeed !  "  she  answered,  without  much 
enthusiasm,  and  Severnius  turned  to  me. 

"It  is  on  your  account,  my  friend,  that  I 


"lanvcilina  a  iParallcl.  ••! 

am  to  be  indebted  to  lliein  for  tliis  great 
pleasure,"  he  explained. 

"On  my  account?"  said  I. 

"Yes,  they  have  heard  about  you,  and  are 
extremely  anxious  to  make  your  acquaint- 
ance?" 

"They  must  be,"  said  Elodia,  "to  cai-e  to 
travel  a  thousand  miles  or  so  in  order  to 
do  it." 

"Who  are  they,  pray?"  I  asked. 

"They  are  a  people  so  extraordinarily 
good,"  she  said  with  a  laugh,  "  so  refined 
and  sublimated,  that  they  cast  no  shadow 
in  the  sun." 

Severnius  gave  her  a  look  ot  mild  protest. 

"They  are  a  race  exactly  like  ourselves, 
outwardl} ,"  he  said,  "who  inhabit  a  moun- 
tainous and  very  ])icturesque  country  called 
Caskia,  in  the  northern  ])art  of  this  con- 
tinent." 

"O,  that  is  where  the  Perfect  Pair  came 
from,"  I  rejoined,  remembering  what  he  had 
told  me  al)out  Man's  origin  on  Mars. 

Elodia  smiled.  "Has  Sevei'uius  l)een  en- 
tertaining you  with  our  religious  fables?  " 
she  asked.     I  glanced  at  him  and  saw  that 


92  "mnvcilino  a  parallel. 

he  hud  not  lieaid;  lie  Avas  finisliing  liis 
letter. 

"You  will  be  interested  in  these  Caskians," 
he  said  to  me  animatedly  as  he  folded  it  up; 
"I  was.  I  spent  some  months  in  Limismar, 
their  capital,  once,  studying.  They  have  rare 
facilities  for  reading  the  heavens  there, — 
I  mean  of  their  own  contrivance, — beside 
their  natural  advantages;  their  high  altitude 
and  the  clearness  of  the  air." 

^'And  they  name  themselves  after  the 
planetoids  and  other  heavenly  bodies," 
interjected  Elodia,  "because  they  live  so 
near  the  stars.  What  is  the  name  of  the 
superlative  creature  }  on  were  so  charmed 
with,  Severnius ?  " 

"I  suppose  3  ou  mean  my  friend  Calypso's 
wife,  Clytia,"  returned  he. 

"O,  yes,  I  remembei', —  Clytia.  Is  she  to 
fjivor  us?" 

"Yes,  and  her  husband  and  several 
others." 

"Any  other  women?" 

"  One  or  two,  I  think." 

"And  how  are  we  to  conduct  ourselves 
during  the  \isitatiouy" 


Tnnvciling  a  iparallcl.  93 

^'As  we  ahvays  do;  you  will  not  find  that 
they  will  })ut  any  eon^^trai^t  upon  yon." 

"No,  hardly,"  said  Elodia,  with  a  slight 
curl  of  the  lip. 

I  was  ea<>er  to  hear  more  about  these 
singidar  2^<Jf>plc, —  the  more  eager,  perhaps, 
because  the  thought  of  them  seemed  to 
arouse  Elodia  to  an  unwonted  degree  of 
feeling  and  interest.  Her  eyes  glowed 
intensely,  and  the  color  flamed  brightly 
in  her  cheeks. 

I  pressed  a  question  or  two  upon  Sever- 
nius,  and  he  responded : 

'"'According  to  the  traditions  and  annals 
of  the  Caskians,  they  began  many  thousiinds 
of  years  ago  to  train  themselves  toward  the 
highest  culture  and  most  perfect  develo])- 
ment  of  which  mankind  is  capable.  Their 
aim  was  nothing  shoi-t  of  the  Ideal,  and 
they  believed  that  the  ideal  Avas  ]K)ssible. 
It  took  many  centuries  to  counteract  and 
finally  to  ci'adicate  hereditary  evils,  bnt 
their  courage  and  persc;verance  did  not  give 
way,  and  they  triniuphcd.  They  have 
dro])])ed  tlie  baser  natural    i)ro])ensities  — " 

"As,  in  the  course  of  evolution,  it  is  said. 


94  llnvciliiHi  a  iparallcl. 

certain  species  of  animals  dro])})ed  their  tails 
to  become  Man,"  internpted  Elodia. 

She  rose  from  the  divan  on  which  she  had 
g-racefnlly  disposed  herself  when  she  qnit 
playing,  and  glided  from  the  room,  sweep- 
ing a  bow  to  lis  as  she  vanished,  before  Sev- 
ernins  or  T  could  interpose  an  objection  to 
her  leaving  ns.  Althongh  there  Avas  never 
any  appearance  of  haste  in  her  mannei",  she 
had  a  swift  celerity  of  movement  which  made 
it  impossible  to  anticipate  her  intention. 

Severnins,  however,  did  not  care  to  inter- 
pose an  objection,  I  think.  He  felt  some- 
Avhat  hurt  by  her  sarcastic  comments  npon 
his  friends,  and  he  expanded  more  after  she 
had  gone. 

"  Yon  must  certainly  visit  Lnnismar 
before  yon  leave  Mars,"  he  said.  ^- You  will 
feel  well  repaid  for  the  trouble.  It  is  a 
beautiful  city,  wonderful  in  its  cleanness,  in 
its  dearth  of  i)overty  and  scpialor,  and  in  the 
purity  and  elevation  of  its  social  tone.  I 
think  you  will  wish  }ou  might  live  thci"e 
always." 

There  seemed  to  be  a  regret  in  his  voice, 
and  I  asked: 


"dnveiling  a  parallel.  95 

"Why  (lid  not  you  remain  there?  " 

"Because  of  my  sister,"  he  answered. 

"But  she  will  many,  doubtless."  For 
some  occult  reason  I  hung  upon  his  reply  to 
this.     He  shook  his  head. 

■^"I  do  not  think  she  will,"  he  said.  "And 
she  and  I  are  all  that  are  left  of  our  family." 

"She  does  not  like, —  or  she  does  not 
believe  in  these  Caskians?"  I  hoped  he 
Avould  contradict  me,  and  he  did.  I  had 
come  to  found  my  judgments  of  people 
and  of  tilings  upon  Elodia's,  even  against 
the  testimony  of  my  reason.  If  she  disap- 
proved of  her  brother's  extraordinary  friends 
and  thought  them  an  impossible  people, 
why,  then,  I  knew  I  should  have  misgivings 
of  them,  too;  and  I  wanted  to  believe  in 
them,  not  only  on  Severnius'  accoinit,  but 
because  they  pi-esented  a  curious  study  in 
psychology. 

"O,  yes,  she  docs,"  he  said.  "She  thinks 
that  their  })i-inciples  ami  their  lives  are  all 
i-ight  for  themselves,  Init  would  not  be  for  her 
— or  for  us;  and  oiu*  adoption  of  them  would 
be  simply  a[)ish.  She  is  genuine,  and  she 
detests    imitation.     She  accepts  herself  —  as 


96  "Glnvciliim  a  ipaiaUd. 

she  puts  it  —  as  slio  found  lu'i'self.  God, 
Avbo  niadt'  all  things,  civated  her  upon  a  cer- 
tain plane  of  life,  and  with  certain  tastes, 
faculties,  passions  and  pro])ensities,  and  that 
it  is  not  her  olHce  to  distiu'b  or  distort  the 
order  of  His  economy." 

"She  does  not  argue  thus  in  earnest,"  I 
depi'ecated. 

"It  is  difficult  to  tell  when  Elodia  is  in 
earnest,"  he  replied.  "  She  thinks  my  sanc- 
tuary in  the  top  story  of  the  house  here,  is 
a  kind  of  weakness,  because  I  brought  the 
idea  from  Lunismar." 

"  O,  then,  it  is  not  common  here  in  Thur- 
sia  for  people  to  have  things  of  that  sort  in 
their  homes !  "  I  said  in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  it  has  gotten  to  be  rather  common," 
he  I'eplied. 

"  Since  you  ])ut  in  yours?  " 

He  admitted  that  to  be  the  case. 

"You  must  think  that  you  have  done  your 
country  a  great  good,"  I  1)egan  enthusiasli- 
cally,  "in  introducing  so  beautiful  an  innova- 
tion, and  —  " 

"Y^ou  are  mislaken,"  he  interrupted,  ""I 
Ihink  the  contrary;  because  our  ivich  people, 


Tllnveiliiui  a  parallel.  97 

and  Home  ^vlio  arc  not  i"ich  ])iit  only  ani1)i- 
tioiis,  took  it  u[)  as  a  fad,  and  I  Lt'licNC  it 
has  really  worked  e^  il.  It  is  considered  ai"is- 
toci'atic  to  have  one's  own  private  shrine, 
and  not  to  go  to  cluireli  at  all  except  in  con- 
descension, to  ])atronize  the  masses.  Elodia 
saw  clearly  jnst  how  it  W(Jiild  be,  before  I 
began  to  carry  out  my  plan.  She  has  a  log- 
ical mind,  and  her  thought  travels  from  one 
sequence  to  the  next  with  unfailing  accu- 
racy. I  recall  her  saying'  that  one  cannot 
superinduce  the  customs  and  habits  of  one 
society  upon  another  of  a  different  ordei-, 
without  alTectaticm;  and  that  you  cannot 
put  on  a  new  religion,  like  a  new  garment, 
and  feel  yourself  free  in  it." 

"Does  she  not  believe,  then,  in  progress, 
development?" 

"Only  along  the  familiar  lines.  She 
thinks  you  can  reach  outward  and  uj)ward 
from  yoin*  natiu'al  environment,  but  you 
must  not  tear  yourself  out  of  it  with  vio- 
lence. However,  she  admitted  that  my 
sanctuaiy  was  well  enough  for  me,  because 
of  my  having  lived  among  the  Caskians 
and    studied     their    sublime    ethics    until    I 


98  Tllnvdlinfl'  a  IParallcl. 

grew  into  tlie  meanings  of  them.  But  no 
person  can  take  them  second-hand  from  me, 
becanse  I  could  not  bi'ing  away  with  me  the 
inexpressible  something  which  holds  those 
people  together  in  a  perfect  Unit.  I  can 
go  to  Caskia  and  catch  the  spirit  of  their 
religion,  but  I  cannot  bring  Caskia  here. 
It  was  a  mistake  in  so  far  as  my  neigh- 
bors are  concerned,  since  they  only  see  in  it, 
as  I  have  said,  a  new  fashion,  a  new  diver- 
sion for  their  ennuied  thoughts." 

"  What  is  there  peculiar  about  the  religion 
of  those  i^eople?"  I  asked. 

"The  most  peculiar  thing  about  it  is  that 
they  live  it,  rather  than  profess  it,"  he 
replied. 

"I  don't  think  I  understand,"  said  T,  and 
after  a  moment's  consideration  of  the  mat- 
ter in  his  own  mind,  he  tried  to  make  his 
meaning  clear  to  me. 

"  Do  you  often  hear  an  upi'ight  man  pro- 
fessing his  honesty?  It  is  a  part  of  himself. 
He  is  so  free  of  the  law  which  enjoins 
honesty  that  he  never  gives  it  a  thought. 
So  with  the  man  who  is  truly  religious, 
he  has  flung  off  the  harness  and  no  longer 


TUnveilino  a  parallel.  99 

needs  to  guide  himself  by  bit  and  rein,  or 
measure  liis  conduct  by  the  written  code. 
My  friends,  the  Caskians,  have  emancipated 
themselves  from  the  thraldom  of  the  law  by 
absorbing  its  principles  into  themselves. 
It  was  like  seed  sown  in  the  ground,  the 
germs  burst  from  the  husk  and  shot  npward; 
they  are  enio3'ing  the  flower  and  the  fruit. 
That  which  all  nations  and  peoples,  and  all 
individuals,  prize  and  desire  above  every- 
thing else  in  life,  is  liberty.  But  I  have 
seen  few  here  in  Palevei-ia  who  have  any 
conception  of  the  vast  spiritual  meanings 
of  the  word.  AYe  limit  it  to  the  physical ;  we 
say  ^personal'  liberty,  as  though  that  were 
all.  You  admire  the  man  of  high  courage, 
because  in  that  one  thing  he  is  free.  So 
with  all  the  virtues,  named  and  nnnamable; 
he  is  greatest  who  has  loosed  himself  the 
most,  who  weighs  anchor  and  sails  away 
triumphant  and  free.  But  this  is  but  a 
general  picture  of  the  Caskians;  let  me  par- 
ticularize: we  are  forbidden  to  steal,  by  both 
our  civil  and  religious  canons, —  the  coarse- 
ness of  such  a  command  would  offend  them 
as  much  as  a  direct  chai-ge  of  theft  would 


100  'Glnvcilino  a  parallel. 

oi'feiul  you  or  iiiy.scir,  ko  exquisite  is  their 
sense  of  the  rights  of  others,  not  only  in  the 
matter  of  property  l)ut  in  a  thousand  subtle 
ways.  Robbei-y  in  any  form  is  impossible 
with  them.  They  would  think  it  a  crying 
sin  for  one  to  take  the  slightest  advantage 
of  another, —  nay,  to  neglect  an  opportimily 
to  assist  another  in  the  acconii)lishment  of 
his  rightful  pur})ose  would  be  criminal. 
We,  here  on  Mars,  and  you  upon  the  Earth, 
have  discovered  very  sensitive  ek'ments  in 
nature;  they  have  discovered  the  same  in 
their  own  souls.  Their  2)erceptions  are  sin- 
gularly acute,  their  touch  upon  each  other's 
lives  finely  delicate.  Tn  this  res[)e(rt  we 
compare  witli  them  as  the  rude  l)lacksmith 
compares  Avilh  the  worker  in  precious 
metals." 

"Uut  do  tlie)-  also  c(mcern  themselves 
with   science?"    J    asked. 

"Assuredly,"  he  answered.  "Their  in- 
ventions are  remarkal)le,  their  methods 
infiniti'ly  superior  t(^  oui's.  They  believe 
in  the  triple  nature,  —  the  spiritual,  the  in- 
tellectual, and  the  physical, —  and  take  equal 
pains  in  the  development  and  culture  of  all." 


TUnvcilini^  a  (parallel.  101 

"How  wonderCul!"  I  said,  remcmheriiig 
that  upon  tlio  Earth  we  have  waves  of  ciil- 
tiii*e  ])realvini;-  over  the  laiul  from  time  to 
time,  spasmodic,  and  never  the  same;  to-day 
it  may  he  physical,  to-morrow  intellectnal, 
and  l)y-and-hy  a  sn])erline  s])iritnal  ])h)om. 
l>ut,  wliiehever  it  is,  it  saei'ifiees  the  oilier 
two  and  makes  itself  sni)reme. 

Sevei"nins  Avent  on.  As  he  ])roceeded,  I 
was  strnek  hy  the  fact  that  the  ])rineiples  of 
our  Christian  civilization  formed  the  basis 
of  Paleverian  law. 

^'I  wanted  to  give  yon  some  other  in- 
stances," he  said, ■'''of  the  ^pecnliarities'  of 
the  Caskians,  as  we  started  out  with  calling' 
them.  There  is  a  law  with  ns  against  bear- 
ing false  witness;  they  hold  each  other  in 
such  honoi"  and  in  such  tendei'iiess,  that  the 
command  is  an  idle  hreatli.  There  is  noth- 
ing mawkish  or  sentimental  about  this, 
however;  thc}^  in  fact,  make  no  Airtne  of 
it,  any  more  than  3'on  or  I  make  a  virtue  of 
the  things  we  do  habitually  —  i)erha])s  from 
imanalyzed  motives  of  ])olicy.  Von  would 
not  strike  a  man  it'  V'>'i  knew  he  would  iiit 
1)aek  and    liuil    you  worse   than   he   himself 


102  ■Ulnvcilino  a  parallel. 

was  Inii't;  well,  these  people  have  Feiisil)ili- 
lies  so  finely  devel()})ed,  that  a  wrong  done 
to  another  reacts  npon  themselves  with  ex- 
(piisile  snffering-.  The  law  and  its  penalties 
ai*e  both  unseen  forces,  operating  on  an  in- 
ternal not  an  extei'nal  ])lane.  With  ns,  the 
authority  which  declares,  ^Thou  shalt  not 
connnit  adultery,'  becomes  powerless  at  the 
threshold  of  marriage.  Like  other  such 
laws  which  hold  ns  together  in  an  outwai'd 
appearance  of  decency  and  good  order,  it  is 
a  dead  letter  to  them  np  to  the  point  where 
we  drop  and  trample  ii])on  it;  here  they 
take  it  ii])  and  carry  it  into  their  inmost 
lives  and  thoughts  in  a  way  almost  too  fine 
for  ns  to  comprehend.  Because  we  have 
never  so  much  as  dreamed  of  catching  the 
sj)irit  of  that  law."" 

"What  do  you  mean?""  I  demanded,  with 
a  wide  stai-e. 

^'Why,  that  marriage  does  not  sanction 
hist.  The  Caskians  hold  that  the  exercise 
of  the  procreative  faculty  is  a  divine  func- 
tion, and  should  never  be  debased  to  mere 
animal  indulgence.  It  has  been  said  upon 
Divine   Authority — as  we  believe — that  if 


TUnvefUno  a  iparallel.  103 

a  mail  look  upon  a  woman  to  lust  after  her, 
he  has  committed  adultery  in  his  heart. 
The  Caskians  interpret  that  to  mean  a 
man's  wife,  the  same  as  any  other  woman, 
because  —  they  hold  —  one  who  owes  his 
being  to  lust  and  passion  naturally  inherits 
the  evil  and  the  curse,  just  as  surely  as 
though  wedlock  had  not  concealed  the 
crime.  Their  children  are  conceived  in 
immaculate    purity." 

My  look  of  prolonged  amazement  called 
out  the  usual  question: 

"  Have  you  no  such  chiss  in  any  of  your 
highly  civilized  countries?" 

"Xo,  I  think  not.  With  us,  children 
do  not  come  in  answer  to  an  intelligent 
desire  for  their  existence,  but  are  too  often 
simply  the  result  of  indulgence,  and  so 
unwelcome  that  their  ])re-natal  life  is  over- 
shadowed by  soi-row  and  crime." 

"^Well,"  said  he,  "it  is  the  same  here; 
our  people  believe  that  conce])tion  with- 
out lust  is  an  imjjossibility  in  nature, 
and  that  instances  of  it  are  supernatural. 
And  certainly  it  is  incredible  unless  your 
mind  can  grasp   the   problem,  or  rather  the 


104  'Clnvcilinci  a  parallel. 

f»-i'eat  fact,  of  a  ])e()ple  engaged  for  centuries 
in  eliminating  tlie  purel}"  animal  instincts 
fi'oni  their  consciousness." 

After  a  moment  he  added : 

"  In  Caskia  it  would  be  considered  shock- 
ing if  a  i^air  contemj)laling  marriage  were 
to  provide  themselves  with  only  one  suite 
of  rooms,  to  l)e  shared  together  day  and 
night.  Even  the  hnml)lest  i)e()ple  have  their 
respective  apartments;  they  think  such  sep- 
arateness  is  a])S()lutely  essential  to  the  per- 
fect development  of  the  indivichial, —  for  in 
the  main  we  eac-h  must  stand  alone, —  and 
to  the  preservation  of  moial  dignity,  and 
the  line  sentiment  and  nuilal  res])ect  which 
are  almost  certain  to  be  h)st  in  the  hiwless- 
ness  of  undue  familiarit}'.  The  relation 
between  my  friend  Cal^'pso  and  his  wife 
is  the  tinest  thing  I  evei'  saw;  they  are 
lovers  on  the  highest  plane.  It  would  be 
an  impossibility  i'or  either  of  them  to  say  or 
do  a  coarse  or  impi"()])er  thing  in  the  ()th('i'\s 
])resence,  or  to  ])resume,  in  any  of  the  imui- 
nu'rable  ways  you  and  I  are  familiar  with 
in  our  obser\'atious  of  husbands  and  wives, 
upon    the  marriage  bond  existing  between 


"dnvdlinci  a  ipaiallel.  lOr. 

them.  Tills  matter  of  animal  passion,"  be 
went  on,  after  a  little  pause,  "has  been  at 
the  bottom  of  nntold  crimes,  and  unnum- 
bered miseries,  in  our  land.  I  doubt  if  any 
other  one  thing  has  been  prolific  of  more  or 
greater  evils, —  even  the  greed  of  wealth. 
Men,  and  women,  too,  have  sacrificed  king- 
doms for  it,  have  bartered  their  souls  for  it. 
Countless  homes  have  been  desolated  be- 
cause of  it,  countless  lives  and  hearts  have 
been  laid  on  its  guilty  altar.  We  ostracize 
the  bastard;  he  is  no  more  hnpui'e  than  the 
offspring  of  legalized  licentiousness,  and 
the  law  Aviiich  protects  the  one  and  despises 
the  other,  cannot  disci'iminate  in  the  matter 
of  aftereffects,  cannot  annul  or  enforce  the 
curse  of  hei-edity.  With  these  people  the 
law  of  chastity  is  gi'aven  in  the  inmost  heart, 
and  in  this  matter,  as  iu  all  others,  each 
generation  acknowledges  its  obligation  to 
the   next."' 


Chapter  5» 

THE    VAPORIZER. 

"Portable  ecstasies 
corkeil  up  in  a  pint  bottle." —  Dk  Quincicv. 

I  was  glad  when  spring  came,  when  the 
ti'ees  began  to  bud,  the  grass  to  grow,  the 
Mowers  to  bloom;  for,  of  all  the  seas(ms,  I 
like  it  best, —  this  wonderful  resurrection  of 
life  and  sweetness! 

Thursia  is  a  fine  city, —  not  only  in  its 
costly  and  arcliitecturally  and  aesthetically 
perfect  buildings,  ]Miblic  and  private,  but  in 
its  shaded  a\'c'uues,  its  parks,  laAvns,  gardens, 
fountains,  its  idyllic  statues,  and  its  monu- 
ments to  greatness. 

Severnius  took  pains  to  exhil)it  all  its 
attractions  to  me,  driving  Avith  me  slowly 
through  the  beautiful  streets,  and  ]X)inting 
out   one    conspicuous  feature    and  another. 

106 


■Clnvcilino  a  iparallel.  1^7 

Of  course  tlic'i-c  were  some  streets  which 
were  not  beautiful,  but  he  avoided  those  as 
much  as  possible, —  as  I  have  done  myseli' 
when  I  have  had  friends  visiting  me  in  Kew 
York.  It  is  a  compliment  to  your  guest 
to  show  him  the  best  there  is  aud  to  spare 
him  the  worst. 

But  often,  too,  we  took  long  walks 
through  fields  and  woods.  When  Elodia 
accompanied  us,  w^hich  she  did  a  few  times, 
the  whole  ftice  of  nature  smiled,  and  I 
thought  Paleveria  the  most  incomparal)ly 
charming  country  I  had  ever  seen.  Her 
presence  gave  importance  to  everything, — 
the  song  of  a  bird,  the  opening  of  a  hmnble 
little  flower,  the  babbling  of  water.  But 
other  things  absorbed  most  of  her  tune, — 
we  only  got  the  scraps,  the  remnants. 
When  she  w^as  with  us  she  relaxed,  as 
though  we  were  in  some  sort  a  recreation. 
She  amused  herself  with  us  just  as  I  have 
seen  a  busy  father  amuse  himself  with  his 
family  Ibr  an  hour  or  so  of  an  I'vening.  Aud 
I  think  we  really  ])lanned  our  little  theatri- 
cals of  evening  convei-sation  for  her, —  at 
least  I  did.     I  saved  up  whatever  came  to 


108  •Clnvcilino  a  parallel. 

me  of  thought  or  ineiclciit  to  give  to  her  at 
the  dinner  table.  And  slie  apprechited  it; 
her  mind  bristled  with  keen  points,  nj^on 
whieh  any  ideas  let  loose  were  eanght  in 
a  Hash.  The  sudden  illumination  of  her 
countenanee  when  a  new  thing,  or  even  an 
(jld  thing  in  a  new  di'ess,  was  presented  to 
her,  was  of  sueli  value  to  me  that  I  found 
myself  lading  traps  for  it,  inventing  stories 
and  ineideuts  to  toueh  her  faney. 

Besides  her  banking  interests,  over  whieh 
she  kept  a  close  surveillanee,  she  had  a 
great  many  other  matters  that  required  to 
be  looked  after.  As  soon  as  the  weather 
was  fine  enough,  and  business  aetivities  in 
the  city  began  to  be  redoubled,  especially  in 
the  matter  of  real  estate,  she  made  a  point 
of  driving  about  by  herself  to  inspect  one 
piece  of  propei'ty  and  auother,  and  to  make 
plans  and  see  that  they  were  carried  out 
according  to  her  ideas.  And  she  was  just 
as  conscientious  in  the  discharge  of  her 
official  duties.  She  was  constantly  devising 
means  for  the  betterment  of  the  schools, 
both  as  to  buildings  and  methods  of  in- 
struction.    1  believe  she  knew  every  teacher 


tlnvciliuG  a  iparallel.  10-^ 

personally, —  and  tbei'c  must  have  been  sev- 
eral thousand, —  and  her  relations  with  all 
of  them  were  cordial  and  friendly.  Her 
approbation  was  a  thing  they  strove  for  and 
valued, —  not  because  of  her  official  position 
and  the  authority  she  held  in  her  hands, 
but  because  of  a  power  which  was  innate  in 
herself  and  that  made  her  a  leader  and  a 
protector. 

But  I  was  too  selfish  to  yield  my  small 
right  to  her  society, —  the  right  only  of  a 
guest  hi  her  house, —  to  these  greater  claims 
with  absolute  sweetness  and  patience. 

"  Why  does  she  take  all  these  things 
upon  herself?"  I  asked  of  Severnius. 

"Because  she  has  a  taste  for  them,"  he 
replied.  "  Or,  as  she  would  say,  a  need  of 
them.  Tt  is  an  internal  hunger.  It  is  her 
natui'e  to  exert  herself  in  these  ways." 

"I  cannot  believe  it  is  her  nature;  it  is  no 
woman's  nature,"  1  retorted.  '"'"  Ft  is  a  habit 
which  she  has  cultivated  until  it  has  got  the 
mastery  of  her." 

"  Perhaps,"  returned  Severnius,  who  was 
never  much  disposed  to  argue  about  his  sis- 
ter's vagaries  —  as  they  seemed  tome. 


110  'ClnvcUlno  a  ipavallcl. 

"All  this  is  manni.sh,"  I  went  on.  "There 
are  other  things  for  women  to  do.  Why 
does  she  not  give  her  time  and  attention  to 
the  softer  graces,  to  feminine  occupations?" 

"I  see,"  he  laughed;  "you  w^ant  her  to 
drop  these  weighty  matters  and  devote  her- 
self to  amusing  us!  and  you  call  that 
^  feminine.' " 

I  joined  in  his  laugh  ruefully. 

"Perhaps  I  am  narrow,  and  selfish,  too," 
I  admitted;  "but  she  is  so  charming,  she 
brings  so  much  into  our  conversations  when- 
ever we  can  entice  her  to  spend  a  moment 
with  us." 

"Yes,  that  is  true,"  he  answered.  "She 
gleans  her  ideas  from  a  large  and  varied 
field." 

"  I  do  not  mean  her  ideas,  so  much  as  — 
well,  as  the  delicious  flavor  of  her  presence 
and  personality." 

"Her  presence  and  her  personality  would 
not  have  much  flavor,  my  friend,  if  she  had 
no  ideas,  I  am  thinking." 

"O,  yes,  they  would,"  I  insisted.  "They 
are  the  ether  in  which  our  own  thoughts  ex- 


TUnvciUng  a  iParallcl.  l ' ' 

pand  and  take  shape  and  color.  They  are 
the  essence  of  her  supreme  beauty." 

He  shook  his  head.  "  Beauty  is  nothing 
without  intelligence.  What  is  the  camellia 
beside  the  rose?  Elodia  is  the  rose.  She 
has  several  pleasing  qualities  that  appeal  to 
you  at  one  and  the  same  time." 

This  was  rather  pretty,  but  a  man's 
praises  of  his  sister  always  sound  tame  to 
me.  "  She  is  adorable !  "  I  cried  "with  f er- 
voi'.  We  were  walking  toward  a  depot 
connected  with  a  great  railway.  For  the 
first  time  I  was  to  try  the  speed  of  a  Mars- 
ian  train.  Severnius  wanted  me  to  visit  the 
city  of  Frambesco,  some  two  hundred  miles 
from  Thursia,  in  another  state. 

After  a  short,  ruminating  silence  I  broke 
out  again : 

"  We  don't  even  have  her  comi)any  even- 
ings, to  any  extent.  What  does  she  do  with 
her  evenings?" 

"Who?  O,  Elodia!  Why,  she  goes  to 
her  club.     For  reci-eation,  you  knoAV." 

"  That  is  complimentary  to  you  and  me," 
I  said  coolly. 


112  "Glnvcilino  a  parallel. 

J  Iv  brought  his  spectacles  to  bear  upon  me 
somewhat  sharply. 

"  Don't  you  thmk  you  arc  a  little  imrea- 
souable?  "  he  demanded.  "You  have  curi- 
ous ideas  about  individual  liberty!  N^ow,  we 
hold  that  every  soul  shall  be  absolutely  free, 
—  that  is,  in  its  relations  to  other  souls ;  it 
shall  not  be  coerced  by  any  other.  It  is  as 
though  souls  were  stars  suspended  in  space, 
each  mo\ing'  in  its  appointed  orbit.  No 
one  has  the  right  to  disturb  the  poise  and 
equilibrium  of  another,  not  even  the  one 
nearest  it.  That  is  a  Caskian  idea,  by  the 
way ;  about  the  only  one  Elodia  is  enamored 
of.  These  souls,  or  si)heres,  are  extremely 
sensitive;  and  they  may,  and  do,  exert  a  tre- 
mendous influence,  one  upon  another, —  but 
Avithout  violence." 

"  Your  meaning  is  clear,"  1  said  coldly. 
"My  powers  of  attraction  in  this  case  are 
feeble.  Is  the  club  you  speak  of  composed 
entirely  of  women?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  Do  not  the  men  here  have  clubs?  " 

"O,  3^es;  I  belong  to  one,  though  I  do  not 
often  attend.     I  will  take  you  to  visit  it, — 


TUnvcilino  a  iparallel.  113 

T  woiuler  I  had  not  thought  of  it  before! 
But  those  things  are  disturbing;  we  scien- 
tists hke  to  keep  our  minds  clear,  hke  tlie 
lenses  of  our  telescopes." 

"Is  Elodia's  club  a  literary  one?"  I  asked, 
though  I  was  almost  sui-e  it  was  not. 

"O,  no;  it  is  for  recreation  jiurely,  as  I 
said.  The  same  kind  of  a  club,  I  suppose, 
that  you  men  have.  Of  course,  they  have 
the  current  literature,  which  they  skim  over 
and  discuss,  so  as  to  keep  themselves  in- 
formed about  what  is  going  on  in  the  woi'ld. 
It  is  the  only  way  you  can  keep  up  with 
the  times,  I  think,  for  no  one  can  read 
everything.  They  have  games  and  various 
diversions.  Elodia's  clul)liouse  is  furnislied 
witli  elegant  baths,  for  women  have  an 
exti'aordinary  fondness  for  bathing.  And 
they  have  a  gynmasium, —  you  notice  what 
splendid  figures  most  of  our  women  have!  — 
and  of  course  a  wine  cellar." 

'"'"Severnius!"  1  cried.  "  Ycm  don't  mean 
to  tell  me  that  these  women  have  wines  in 
their  clubhouse?" 

"Why,  yes,"  said  he. 


114  TUnvcUiiui  a  iparallcl. 

"And  it  is  tolci-atecl,  allowed,  nobody 
objects?" 

"  O,  yes,  there  are  plenty  of  objectors," 
he  replied.  "There  is  a  very  strong  anti- 
intoxicant  element  here,  but  it  lias  no  actual 
force  and  exerts  but  little  influence  in  —  in 
our  circles." 

Severnius  was  too  modest  a  man  to  boast 
of  belonging  to  the  up])er  class  of  society, 
but  that  was  what  "our  circles"  meant. 

"But  do  not  the  male  relatives  of  these 
women  '  object, —  their  husbands,  fathers, 
brothers?" 

"No,  indeed,  why  shoidd  they?  We 
do  the  same  things  they  do,  without  demur 
from  them." 

"But  they  should  be  looking  after  their 
domestic  affairs,  their  children,  their  homes." 

"My  dear  sir!  they  have  servants  to  attend 
to  those  matters." 

It  seemed  useless  to  discuss  these  things 
with  Severnius,  his  point  of  view  concei'uing 
the  woman  question  was  so  different  from 
mine.     Nevertheless,  I  persisted. 

"Tell  me,  Severnius,  do  women  on  this 
planet  do  everything  that  men  do?" 


"Unveiling  a  iParallcl.  115 

"  They  have  that  Uberty,"  he  repHed,  ^'hnt 
there  is  sometimes  a  difference  of  tastes." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it!  " 

"For  instance,  they  do  not  smoke.  By 
the  way,  have  a  cigar?"  lie  passed  me 
his  case  and  we  both  fired  np.  There  is 
a  peculiarly  delightful  flavor  in  Marsian 
tobacco. 

"  They  have  a  substitute  though,"  he 
added,  removing  the  fragrant  weed  from 
his  lips  to  explain.     "  They  vaporize." 

"Theyivhat?" 

"They  have  a  small  cup,  a  little  larger 
than  a  common  tobacco  pipe,  which  they  fill 
with  alcohol  and  pulverized  valerian  root. 
This  mixture  when  lighted  diffuses  a  kiud 
of  vapor,  a  po]-tion  of  which  they  inhale 
through  the  cii])-stem,  a  slender,  tortuous 
tube  attached  to  the  cup.  The  mcjst  of  it, 
however,  goes  into  the  general  air." 

"  Good  heavens !  "  I  cried,  ^'  valerian ! 
the  most  infernal,  diabolical  smell  that  was 
ever  emitted  from  any  known  or  unknown 
substance." 

"  It  is  said  io  Ijc  soothing  to  the  nerves," 
he  replied. 


116  llnrcilini}  a  iparallcl. 

"But  do  you  not  Hud  it  lK)i'ril)ly  disagree- 
able, uubearable?"  I  suddeuly  recollected 
that,  in  passing  through  the  ui)per  hall  of 
the  house,  I  had  once  or  twice  detected  this 
nauseating  odoi*,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Elodia'.s  suite  of  rooms. 

"Yes,  I  do,"  he  answered,  "  when  I  happen 
to  come  in  contact  with  it,  which  is  seldoui. 
They  are  careful  not  to  offeud  others  to 
Avhom  the  vai)6r  is  luipleasaut.  Elodia 
is  very  delicate  in  these  matters;  she  is 
fond  of  the  vapor  hal)it,  but  she  allows  no 
suggestion  of  it  to  cliug  to  her  garments  or 
vitiate  her  breath." 

"  It  must  be  a  great  care  to  deodorize 
herself,"  I  returned,  with  ill-concealed 
contempt. 

"That    is   her  maid's  business,"  said  he. 

"Is  it  not  injurious  to  health?"  I  asked. 

"Quite  so;  it  often  induces  frightful 
diseases,  and  is  sometimes  fatal  to  life  even, 

"And  yet  they  ])ersist  in  it!  I  should 
think  you  would  interfere  in  your  sister's 
case." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "the  evils  which  attend 
it  are  reall}^  no  greater  than  those  that  wait 


■mnvcUino  a  parallel.  117 

upon  the  tobacco  hal)it;  and,  as  I  smolv(>,  T 
can't  advise  witli  a  very  g'ood  grace.  I  liave 
a  sort  of  blind  faith  that  these  good  cigars 
of  mine  are  not  going  to  do  me  any  harm, — 
though  I  know  tliey  liave  harmed  others; 
and  I  suppose  Elodia  reasons  in  the  same 
friendly  way  with  her  vapor  cup." 

The  train  stood  on  the  track  ready  to 
start.  I  was  about  to  S])ring  up  the  steps 
of  the  last  car  when   Severnius   stopped  me. 

''^ot  that  one,"  he  said;  ''that  is  the 
woman's   special." 

I  stepi)ed  back,  and  ]-ead  the  word  Vapor- 
izer,—  j)i-inted  in  large  gilt  letters, —  bent 
like  a  bow  on  the  side  of  the  car. 

"  Do  yon  mean  to  tell  me,  Severnius,"  I 
exclaimed,  "that  the  railroad  company 
devotes  one  of  these  magnificent  coaches 
exclusively  to  the  use  of  persons  addicted 
to  the  obnoxious  ha1)it  we  have  been  speak- 
ing of  ?  " 

"That  is  al)out  the  size  of  it,"  he  retui'ued, 
—  he  borrowed  the  ])hrase  from  me.  ''  Come, 
make  haste,  or  we  shall  be  left;  the  next  car 
is    the    smoker;     we'll    step    into  that  and 


118  "mnvcilimi  a  parallel. 

finish  those  cigars,  after  ^vliieh  I'll  show  you 
what  sumptuous  i)arl()r  eoachos  we  have." 

As  we  uiouuted  to  the  ])hitform  I  could 
not  resist  glancing  into  the  Ycqyorizer. 
There  Avere  only  two  or  thi'ce  ladies  there, 
and  one  of  them  held  in  her  ungloved  hand 
the  little  cup  with  the  tortuous  stem  which 
my  fi'iend  had  desci-ihed  to  me.  From  it 
there  issued  a  pale  l)lue  smoke  or  vapor, 
and  oh !  the  smell  of  it !  I  held  nw  breath 
and  hurried  after  Severnius. 

"  That  is  the  most  outrageous,  abominable 
thing*  I  ever  heard  of!  "I  declared,  as  we 
entered  the  smoker  and  took  our  seats. 

"  O,  it  is  nothing,"  he  returned,  smiling ; 
"you  are  a  very  fastidious  fellow.  I  saw 
you  look  into  that  car;  did  you  observe  the 
lady  in  blue?" 

"  I  should  think  I  did !  she  was  in  the  act," 
I  replied.  "And  I  recognized  her,  too;  she 
is  that  Madam  Claris  you  introduced  me  to 
in  the  Auroras'  Temple,  is  she  not?" 

"Yes;  but  did  you  notice  her  cup?" 

"  T^ot  particularly." 

"  It  is  carved  out  of  the  rarest  wood  we 
have, —  wood  that   hardens  like  stone  with 


■mnvcilinc?  a  parallel.  1^9 

age, —  and  has  an  in(lL'structil)lo  lining  and 
is  Htndded  with  costly  gems;  the  thing  is 
celelirated,  an  heirloom  in  Claris'  family. 
They  like  to  si)ort  those  things,  the  owners 
of  them  do.  They  are  a  mark  of  distinction, 
—  or,  as  they  might  say  in  some  of  your 
countries,  a  patent  of  nobility." 

"  I  suppose,  then,  that  only  the  rich  and 
the  ai'istocratic  ^  vaporize '  ?  " 

"By  no  means;  Avhatever  the  aristocracy 
do,  humble  folk  essay  to  imitate.  These 
vapor  cups  are  made  in  great  quantities,  of 
the  commonest  clay,  and  sold  for  a  penny 
apiece." 

"  Then  it  must  be  a  natural  taste,  among 
your  women?"  said  I. 

"T^o,  no  more  than  smoking  is  among  men. 
They  say  it  is  nauseating  in  the  extreme,  at 
first,  and  requires  great  courage  and  persist- 
ence to  continue  in  it  up  to  the  point  of  lik- 
ing. Thei'e  is  no  doubt  that  it  becomes 
very  agreeable  to  them  in  the  end,  and  that 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  break  the  habit 
when  once  it  is  fixed." 

"And  what  do  they  do  with  their  cups, — 


120  TUnvellinfl  a  parallel. 

I  mean,  how  do  tlic}^  cany  them  about  when 
they  arc  not  using  them?"  I  asked. 

"Puttliein  in  a  morocco  case,  tlie  same  as 
yon  would  a  meerschamn,  and  drop  them  into 
a  fancifnl  little  bag  which  they  wear  on  the 
arm,  suspended  by  a  chain  or  ri])l)on." 

Frambesco  could  not  comj^are  with  Thur- 
sia  either  in  size  or  beauty;  and  it  had  a 
totally  different  air,  a  kind  of  swagger,  you 
might  say.  I  felt  the  mercury  in  my  moi'al 
barometer  drop  down  several  degrees  as  we 
Avalked  al)out  the  streets  amid  much  filth, 
and  i'oul  odors,  and  unsightly  sjjcctacles. 

I  made  the  natural  comments  to  my  friend, 
and  he  replied  that  neither  Frambesco  nor 
any  other  city  on  the  continent  could  hold 
a  candle  to  Thiu-sia,  where  the  best  of  every 
thing  was  centered. 

AVe  observed  a  great  many  enormous  ])la- 
cards  j^osted  about  conspicuously,  announc- 
ing a  game  of  fisticuffs  to  take  place  that 
afternoon  in  an  amphitheatre  devoted  to 
such  purposes;  and  Ave  decided  to  look  in 
upon  it.  I  think  it  was  [  who  suggested  it, 
for  I  had  no  little  curiosity  about  the  "  tac- 
tics" of  the  manlv  nrt  in  that   counti-y,  hav- 


"mnveiUno  a  iparallcl.  121 

mg;  seen  Sulllvau  and  several  other  I'ainous 
liitters  in  onr  own. 

Severnins  had  considerable  dilVienlty  in 
])i'oein'iii.<;- tickets,  and  finally  paid  a  fabidons 
])i-iee  to  a  specnlator  foi'  convenient  seats, 
^riu'  g-reat  cost  of  admission  of  conrse  kept 
out  the  rabble,  and,  in  a  way,  it  was  an  em- 
inently respectable  throng  that  was  assem- 
bled,— r  mean  in  so  far  as  money  and  rich 
clotbes  make  for  respectability.  Bnt  there 
was  an  numistakal)le  coarseness  in  most  of 
the  I'accs,  or  if  not  thai,  a  curiosity  which 
l)ordered  ou  coarseness.  I  was  amazed  to 
see  wouien  in  the  andicnce;  but  this  was 
nothing  to  the  horror  that  qnivered  Ihrough 
me  like  a  deadly  wonnd,  when  the  couibat- 
ants  sprang-  into  the  arena  and  s(|uared  off 
for  action.  For  they,  too,  were  women, — 
women  with  tender,  i"osy  flesh ;  Avith  splen- 
did dark  eyes  gleaming  with  high  excite- 
ment, ^riieir  long,  fail'  h;iir  was  braided 
and  twisted  into  a  hard  knot  on  loj)  of  the 
head.  '^^I^h^'y  wore  no  gloves.  All,  a 
woman's  hands  are  soft  enough  without 
padding!  —  I  thought. 

They  went  at   it  in  scientific  fashi<tn  and 


122  TUnveUinG  a  iparallcl. 

were  careful  to  observe  tlie  etiquette  of  tlie 
game;  it  was  lield  "foul"  to  attack  the  face. 
In  fact  it  was  more  of  a  Avrestlin^  than  a 
sparring  match,  —  a  test  of  strengtli,  prow- 
ess, agility.  But  I  recoiled  fi-om  it  with 
loathing,  and  feeling  myself  groAV  sick  and 
faiut,  1  uuittered  something  to  Severnius  and 
rushed  out  of  the  jilace.  He  folloAved  me,  of 
course;  the  performance  was  quite  as  dis- 
tasteful to  him  as  to  me,  the  only  difference 
being  that  he  was  familiar  with  the  idea  and 
I  was  not. 

As  I  passed  out,  I  observed  that  many  of 
the  women  were  vaporizing  and  many  of  the 
men  smoking.  I  suppose  it  was,  in  part,  the 
intolerable  abomination  of  these  connningled 
smells  that  affected  me,  for  I  experienced  a 
physical  as  well  as  moral  nausea.  I  did  nc^t 
get  over  it  for  hours,  and  I  was  as  glad  as  a 
child  when  it  came  time  to  take  the  train 
back  to  Thursia. 

My  disgust  was  so  great  that  1  could  not 
discuss  the  matter  Avith  Severnius,  as  I  was 
Avont  to  discuss  other  matters  Avith  him. 
There   Avas    one    thing    for   Avhich    I    Avas 


Tllnvcilinci  a  iparallel. 


123 


siipi-cim;!}-  tliaiil<riil,  —  tliat    Ekxliti  was  iKjt 

A  few  days  later,  the  subject  accidentally 
eamc  up,  and  I  bad  the  satisfaction  of  bear- 
ing lier  denounce  tbi'  Ijarbarity  as  emphati- 
cally as  I  could  denounce  it,  —  and  more 
sweepingly,  for  she  included  male  fighters 
in  her  condemnation,  and  I  was  unable  to 
make  her  see  that  that  was  quite  auother 
matter. 


Chapter  6. 

curio's    GAKDENS. 

"  O,   in  what  sweets  dost    thou  thy  sins  enclose." — 

SlIAKSPEARK. 

During'  the  time  that  intervened  l)ef()re 
the  arrival  of  the  Caskians,  to  make  tlieir 
proposed  Ansit,  I  gleaned  many  moi"e  intei- 
esting  hints  IVom  Sevei'uius  relaliNe  to  tlieir 
hfe  and  condnet,  whieli  greally  whetted  my 
cni'iosity  to  meet  them.  For  instance,  we 
were  one  day  engaged  in  a  conversation, 
he,  Ekxlia,  and  myself,  n])()n  the  sul)ject  of 
tlie  province  of  poetry  in  liistory, —  Imt  that 
does  not  matter, —  Avhen  dinner  was  an- 
nounced in  tlie  usual  way;  that  is,  the  wa}^ 
which  assumes  without  doubt  that  nothing 
else  in  the  Avorld  is  so  important  as  dinner. 
It  may  be  a  bell,  or  a  gong,  or  a  vei'bal  call, 
but  it  is  as   imperative   as  the  command  of 

124 


■anvciliiui  a  parallel.  12-'' 

an  autocrat.  It  bnn<i,-.s  to  the  ground,  with 
the  suddenness  of  a  mental  shock,  the  Ihiest 
flights  of  the  imagination.  It  wakes  the  soul 
from  transcendent  dreams,  cools  the  fervor 
of  burning  eloquence,  breaks  the  spell 
of  nuisic.  More  than  this:  it  destroys 
the  delicate  combination  of  mental  states 
and  forces  sometimes  induced  when  several 
highly  trained  minds  have  fallen  into  an 
attitude  of  acute  sym[)athy  toward  one  an- 
other,—  a  rare  and  ineffable  thing!  —  and 
are  borne  aloft  through  mutual  helpfulness 
to  regions  of  thought  and  emotion  infinitely 
exalted,  Avhicli  can  never  be  reproduced. 

I  ha\(»  often  had  this  experience  myself, 
and  have  wished  that  the  cook  was  a  crea- 
ture of  supernatural  intuitions,  so  that  he 
could  (li\ine  the  right  moment  in  which  to 
proclaim  that  the  soup  was  served!  There 
is  a  right  moment,  a  happy  moment,  when 
the  flock  of  intellectual  birds,  let  loose  to 
whirl  and  circle  and  soar  in  the  npi)er  aii-, 
descend  gracefully  and  of  their  own  accord 
to  the  agreeable  level  of  sou]). 

On  the  occasion  to  Avhicli  1  have  releri-ed, 
I  tried  to  ignore,  and  to  make  my  conipan- 


126  "dnveilinfl  a  parallel. 

ions  ignore,  llie  discordant  snnnnons  —  by  a 
kind  of  dominant  action  of  my  mind  upon 
theirs  —  in  order  that  we  might  continue  the 
talk  a  little  longer.  "VYe  three  had  never 
before  sho^^^l  ourselves  off  to  each  other  to 
such  striking  advantage;  we  traveled  miles 
in  moments,  we  expanded,  we  unrolled  reams 
of  intelligence  Avhich  were  apprehended  in 
a  flash,  as  a  whole  landscape  is  apprehended 
in  a  glare  of  lightning.  It  was  as  if  our 
words  were  tipped  with  flame  and  carried 
their  illumination  along  with  them.  I  knew 
that  there  never  would,  never  could,  come 
another  such  time,  ])ut  Elodia  thwarted  my 
effort  to  hold  it  a  moment  longer. 

"  Come !  "  she  cried  gayly,  rising  to  her 
feet  and  breaking  off  in  the  middle  of  a 
beautiful  sentence,  the  conclusion  of  which 
I  was  waiting  for  with  tremors  of  delight, — 
for  her  views,  as  it  hapjiened,  accorded  with 
mine, —  "the  ideal  may  I'uli'  in  art,  l)ut  not 
in  life;  it  is  very  unideal  to  eat,  but  the 
stomach  is  tlie  dial  of  the  world." 

"  We  make  it  so,"  said  Severnius. 

"  Of  course,  we  make  all  our  sovereigns," 
she  returned.     "  We  set  the  dial  to  point  at 


•Clnveilino  a  iparallel.  127 

certain  hours,  and  it  simply  liolds  ns  to  onr 
agreement, —  it  and  the  c//<;/"." 

"  That  reminds  me  of  onr  Caskian  friends," 
said  Severnius.  "  They  have  exceedingly 
well-ordered  homes,  bnt  occasionally  one  of 
the  three  Matures  waits  npon  another;  the 
Mind  may  yield  to  some  contingency  con- 
nected with  the  Body,  or  the  Body  waive 
its  right  in  favor  of  the  Spirit." 

"  I  had  snpposed  they  were  more  machine- 
like,"  commented  Elodia,  with  her  usual  air 
of  not  being  able  to  take  a  great  interest  in 
the  Caskians. 

"  They  are  the  farthest  from  that  of  any 
people  I  know,"  he  answered.  "  They  have 
great  moments,  now  and  then,  when  a  few 
people  are  gathered  together,  and  their 
thought  becomes  electrical  and  their  minds 
mingle  as  you  have  seen  the  glances  of  eyes 
mingle  in  a  language  more  eloquent  than 
speech, —  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  we  ourselves 
have  such  moments,  I'll  not  deny  that;  but 
the  diiference  is,  that  they  aj^pi'cciate  the 
value  of  them  and  hold  them  fast,  while  we 
open  our  hands  and  let  them  fly  away  like 
uncoveted  biids,  or  worthless  butterflies.     I 


128  •dnvcilino  a  iPavallcU 

have  actually  known  a  meal  to  be  (lro])pe(l 
out  entirely  in  CaIy])So',s  house,  for*i,-otten  in 
the  felicity  of  an  intellectual  or  spiritual 
delectation!" 

"  Thank  heaven,  that  we  live  in  Thur- 
sia!"  cricul  Elodia,  ^-Avhere  such  lapses  are 
impossible. " 

"  They  are  next  to  imi)ossiljle  there," 
said  Severnius;  "l)ut  they  do  happen, 
Avhich  ])roves  a  givat  deal,  They  are  in  the 
natiu-e  of  miracles,  they  are  so  wonderful, — 
and  yet  not  so  wonderful.  We  forc^et 
sometimes  that  we  have  a  soul,  and  tliey 
forg'ct  that  tliey  have  a  body;  there's  no 
great  difl'ei-ence." 

"  There  is  a  mighty  difference,"  answered 
Elodia.  "We  are  ])ut  into  a  material  woi'ld, 
to  enjoy  material  l)eneiits.  I  should  tliink 
those  iK'ople  would  miss  a  great  deal  of  the 
actual  good  of  life  in  the  i)ursuit  of  the 
unactual, —  always  taking  their  flights  from 
lofty  ])innacles,  and  skipping  the  treasures 
that  lie  in  the  valleys." 

"On  the  contiaiy,"  he  returned,  "the 
humblest  little  flower  that  grows,  the 
tiniest    i)eb])le  they    pick   up  on  the  beach, 


Tnnveiling  a  iparallel.  129 

the  smallest  voice  in  nature,  all  have  place 
in  their  economy.  They  miss  nothing;  they 
gather  np  into  their  lives  all  the  treasures 
that  nature  scatters  about.  If  a  bird  sings, 
they  listen  and  say,  ^  That  song  is  for  me ; ' 
oi",  if  a  blossom  opens,  ^I  will  take  its  beauty 
into  my  heart.'  These  things,  which  are  free 
to  all,  they  accept  freely.  Their  physical 
senses  are  supplemented, —  duplicated  as  it 
were,  in  finer  quality, —  by  exquisite  inner 
perceptions." 

The  morning  after  this  conversation, 
Severnius  and  I  took  a  long  drive  in  a 
new  direction.  AVe  went  up  the  nver  a 
mile  or  so,  the  road  winding  through  an 
avenue  of  century-old  elms,  whose  great, 
graceful  branches  interlocked  overhead  and 
made  a  shade  so  dense  that  the  very  atmos- 
phere seemed  green.  AYe  were  so  earnestly 
engaged  in  conversation  that  I  did  not  ob- 
serve when  we  left  the  avenue  and  entered 
a  wood.  We  drove  some  distance  through 
this,  and  then  the  road  branched  off  and 
skirted  round  a  magnificent  park, —  the 
finest  I  had  seen, —  bordered  by  a  thick 
hedge,    all     abloom   with     white,    fragrant 


130  lIlnvdltnG  a  Iparallel. 

flowers,  Mild  fciurd  ^villi  ii  fretwork  of 
iron,  fini.slKHl  Avith  an  inverted  fringe  of 
bristling  points.  Within,  were  evidences 
of  costly  and  elaborate  care;  the  trees  were 
of  noble  growth  and  the  gi-eensward  like 
stretches  of  velvet  over  which  leaf-shadows 
flickered  and  i)layed.  The  disposition  of 
shrubbery  and  flowers,  the  chaste  and 
beantifnl  statnary,  the  fonntains,  brooklets, 
ai-bors,  and  retreats;  the  rnstic  effects  in 
bridges,  caves,  grottoes,  and  several  grace- 
fnl  arches,  hidden  in  wreathed  emerald, 
from  which  snow-white  cherubs  with  wings 
on  their  shonlders  peeped  rognishly,  all  be- 
tokened ingenions  design,  and  skilful  aiitl 
artistic   execntion. 

Beyond,  seen  vaguely  through  the  waving 
foliage,  were  handsome  buildings,  of  the 
elegant  cream-colored  stone  so  much  in 
vogue  in  Thursia.  Ilei'e  and  there,  I  espied 
a  fawn;  one  pretty  creature,  Avith  a  ribbon 
round  its  neck,  was  drinking  at  a  foimtain, 
and  at  the  same  time  some  l)eautiful  birds 
came  and  jierched  upon  the  marble  rim  and 
dipped  into  the  sparkling  water. 

"  How    lovely  I     how    idyllic !  "    I   cried. 


"mnveilitui  a  Iparallel.  131 

"What  place  is  it,  Seveniius,  and  why  have 
I  never  .seen  it  before?" 

His  answer  came  a  little  reluctantly,  I 
thought.      "It  is  called  Cupid's  Gardens." 

"And  what  does  it  mean?  "  I  asked. 

"Does  not  its  name  and  those  naked  imps 
sufficiently  explain  it?"  he  replied.  As  I 
looked  at  him,  a  blush  actually  mantled  his 
cheek.  "It  is  a  rendezvous,"  he  explained, 
"where  w^omen  meet  their  lovers." 

"How  curious!  I  never  heard  of  such  a 
thing,"  said  I.  "Do  you  mean  that  the 
place  was  planned  for  that  purpose,  or 
did  the  name  get  fastened  upon  it  through 
accident?  Surely  you  are  joking,  Sever- 
nius ;  Avomen  can  receive  their  lovers  in  their 
homes  here,  the  same  as  Avith  us ! " 

"  Their  suitors,  not  their  lovers,"  he  replied. 

"You  make  a  curious  distinction!"  said  I. 

"Women  sometimes  marry  their  suitors, 
never  their  lovers, —  any  more  than  men 
marry  their  mistresses." 

"  Great  heavens,  Severnius !  "  I  felt  the 
blood  rush  to  my  face  and  then  recede,  and 
a  cold  perspiration  broke  out  all  over  me. 
There  was  a  question  in  my  nu'nd  w^hich  I 


132  'dnvcUino  a  pavallcl. 

did  not  dare  to  ask,  l)ut  Severiiiiis  divined  it. 

"  Is  it  a  new  idea  to  you?  "  said  he.  ''Have 
you  no  licnises  of  prostitution  in  your  eoun- 
try,  licensed  by  law,  as  this  is?" 

"  For  men,  not  for  women,"  said  I. 

"All!  another  of  3'our  j^ticuliar  diserim- 
inations !  "  he  retm'ned. 

"  Well,  surely  you  Avill  agree  with  me 
that  in  this  matter,  at  least,  there  should 
be  discrimination?  "  I  urged. 

He  shook  his  head  with  that  exasperat- 
ing stubbornness  one  occasionally  iinds  in 
sweet-tempered  people. 

'"^^o,  I  cannot  agree  with  you,  even  in 
this,"  he  replied.  "What  possil)le  reason 
is  there  why  men,  more  than  women,  should 
be  privileged  to  indulge  in  vice?" 

"  Why,  in  the  very  nature  of  things !  "  I 
cried.  "  There  is  a  hygienic  principle  in- 
volved; you  know, —  it  is  a  statistical  fact, — 
that  single  men  are  neither  so  vigorous  nor 
so  long-lived  as  married  men,  and  a  good 
many  men  do  not  marry." 

"Well,  a  good  many  more  women  do  not 
marry;  what  of  those?" 

"  Severnius!     I  cannot  believe  you  are  in 


TUnvdlino  a  iparallcl.  ^^^ 

earnest.  Wonicii!  —  that  is  quite  another 
matter.  Women  are  differently  eonstituted 
from  men;  their  nature  —  " 

''O,  eome!"  he  internii)ted;  "I  thought 
Ave  liad  settled  that  question  —  that  their 
natui-e  is  of  a  pieee  with  our  own.  It 
ha])pens  in  your  worhl,  my  friend,  that  your 
women  were  kept  to  a  strict  hue  of  conduct, 
according  to  your  account,  by  a  severe  dis- 
cipline,—  including  even  the  death  penalty, 

—  until  their  virtue,  from  being  long  and 
persistently  enforced,  grew  into  a  habit  and 
iinally  became  a  question  of  honor." 

"  Yes,  stronger  than  death,  thank  God ! " 
I  affirmed. 

"Well,  then,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  only 
excuse  men  have  to  offer  for  their  lack  of 
chastity — I  refer  to  the  men  on  your  i)lanet 

—  is  that  they  have  not  been  hedged  about 
by  the  wholesome  restraints  that  have  de- 
veloped self-government  in  women.  I  can- 
not admit  your  Mi^^gienic'  argument  in  this 
matter;  life  is  a  principle  that  needs  encour- 
agement, and  a  man  of  family  has  moi'c 
incentives    to    live,  and    usually  his    health 


134  TllnvciUnf?  a  parallel. 

is  better  cared  Cor,  than  a  single  man,  that 
is  all." 

We  rode  in  silence  for  some  time.  I 
finally  asked,  nodding  toward  the  beautifnl 
enclosm-e  still  in  view: 

"How  do  they  manage  al)out  this  business; 
do  they  practice  any  secrecy?" 

"Of  course!"  he  replied.  "I  hope  3011 
do  not  think  we  live  in  open  and  shameless 
lawlessness?  Usually  it  is  only  the  very 
wealthy  who  indulge  in  such  ^  luxuries,'  and 
they  try  to  seal  the  lii)s  of  servants  and  go- 
betweens  with  gold.  But  it  does  not  always 
work;  it  is  in  the  nature  of  those  things  to 
leak  out." 

"And  if  one  of  these  creatures  is  found 
out,  what  then?"  I  asked. 

He  answered  with  some  sevei-ity: 

"^Creatures'  is  a  harsh  name  to  apply  to 
women,  some  of  whom  move  in  our  highest 
circles ! " 

"I  beg  your  pardon!  call  them  what  3'ou 
like,  but  tell  me,  what  hajij^ens  when  there 
is  an  exposed  Are  they  denounced,  ostra- 
cized, sat  upon?  "  I  inquired. 

"  No,  not  so  bad  as  that,"  said  he.     "  Of 


IHnveilfng  a  iparallel.  1  •">•"» 

course  there  is  a  seandal,  hnt  it  makes  a 
deal  of  diffei-enee  whether  the  seandal  is  a 
famous  oi'  an  infamous  one.  If  the  woman's 
standing-  is  high  in  other  respects, —  if  she 
has  money,  political  influence,  talent,  attrac- 
tiveness,—  there  is  veiy  little  made  of  it ;  or 
if  society  feels  itself  particularly  insulted, 
she  may  conciliate  it  hy  marrjnng  an  honest 
man  whose  respectability  and  position  pi"o- 
tect  her." 

"What!  does  an  honest  man  —  a  gentle- 
man—  ever  marry  such  a  woman  as  that?" 
I  cried. 

"Frequently;  and  sometimes  they  make 
veiy  good  wives.  lUit  it  is  risky.  I  have  a 
friend,  a  capital  fellow,  who  was  so  unfor- 
tunate as  to  attract  such  a  woman,  and 
who  finally  yielded  t(j  her  persuasions  and 
mai'ried  her." 

"Heavens!  do  the  women  propose?" 

" Certainly,  Avhen  they  choose  to  do  so; 
what  is  there  objectionable  in  that?" 

I  made  no  reply,  and  he  continued,  "  My 
friend,  as  I  said,  succumbed  to  her  pleadings 
])artly  —  as  I  believe — because  she  threw 
herself   upon    his    inerc}^    though    she   is  a 


1"'^)  'dnveiling  a  iparallel. 

l)C':uiliful  woman,  and  lie  niiij;-lit  have  been 
i'useinated  to  sonic  extent.  She  told  lihn 
that  his  love  and  proteetion  wonld  be  her 
salvation,  and  that  his  denial  of  her  wonld 
resnlt  in  her  total  ruin;  and  that  for  his  sake 
she  would  reform  hei-  life.  lie  is  both  chival- 
rous and  tender,  and,  withal,  a  little  roman- 
tic, and  he  consented.  My  o})inion  is  that, 
if  she  could  have  had  him  without  maiTia<^e, 
she  would  have  i)ref erred  it;  but  he  is  a  true 
man,  a  man  of  honor.  AYomen  of  her  sort 
like  virtuous  men,  and  seldom  marry  any 
other.  Her  love  pro^  ed  to  be  an  ephemeral 
passion  —  such  as  she  had  had  before  —  and 
the  result  has  been  Avhat  you  might  expect, 
though  Claris  is  not,  by  any  means,  the 
worst  woman  in  the  world." 

"Claris?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Ah !  I  did  not  mean  to  speak  her  name," 
he  returned  in  some  confusion;  "and  I  had 
forgotten  that  yon  knew  her.  Well,  yes, 
since  I  have  gone  so  far,  it  is  my  friend 
Massilia's  wife  that  I  have  been  speaking 
of.  In  some  respects  she  is  an  admirable 
woman,  but  she  has  l)i-oken  her  husband's 
heart  and  ruined  his  life." 


"Ulnveiling  a  parallel.  137 

"Admirable!"  I  repeated  with  scorn; 
"wliy,  in  my  conntry,  such  conduct  woukl 
damn  a  woman  eternally,  no  matter  what 
angelic  qualities  she  might  possess.  She 
wonld  be  shown  no  quarter  in  any  society 
—  save  the  very  lowest." 

'^  And  how  about  her  counterpart  of  the 
other  sex?"  asked  Severnius,  slyly. 

I  disregarded  this,  and  returned: 

'^Did  he  not  get  a  divorce?" 

"^o;  the  law  does  not  grant  a  divorce  in 
such  a  case.  Thei'C  was  where  Claris  was 
shrewder  than  her  husband;  she  made  her- 
self safe  by  confessing  her  misdeeds  to  him, 
and  cajoling  him  into  marrying  her  in  spite 
of  them." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  but  what  a  fool 
he  was ! " 

Severnius  acquiesced  in  this.  "I  tried  to 
dissuade  him,"  he  said, ''before  the  misera- 
ble business  Avas  consmnmated, —  he  made 
me  his  confidant, — but  it  was  too  late,  she 
had  him  under  her  influence." 

Another  silence  fell  upon  us,  which  I 
broke  by  asking,  "  AXHio  were  those  pretty 
youngsters    we  saAV  lounging  about  on  the 


138  Iflnvcilinfl  a  parallel. 

lawn  back  there?"  I  referred  to  several 
handsome  yonng  men  whom  I  had  observed 
sti'oHhig  through  the  beantifnl  gTonnds. 

lie  looked  at  me  in  evident  surprise  at  the 
question,  and  replied: 

"Why,  those  are  some  of  the  professional 
^  lovers '." 

"  Great  Caesar's  ghost !  " 

"  Yes,"  he  went  on ;  "  some  of  our  most 
promising  youths  are  decoyed  into  those 
places.  It  is  a  distressing  business, —  a  hid- 
eous business !  And,  on  the  other  hand,  there 
are  sunilar  institutions  where  lovely  young 
girls  are  the  victims.  I  do  not  know  which 
is  the  more  deplorable,  —  sometimes  I  think 
the  latter  is.  A  tender  mother  would  wish 
that  her  daughter  had  never  been  boi'u,  if 
she  should  take  up  with  such  a  life;  and  an 
honorable  father  would  rather  see  his  son 
gibbeted  than  to  find  him  inside  that 
railing."'' 

"I  should  think  so!  "  I  responded,  and  in- 
quired, "  What  kind  of  standing  have  these 
men  in  the  outside  world?  " 

"About  the  same  that  a  leper  Avould  have. 
They  are  ignored  and  despised  by  the  A'ery 


TUnvciling  a  iparallcl.  139 

women  who  court  their  caresses  here.  Tn 
foct,  they  are  on  a  level  with  the  common, 
]rdK\  courtesan, —  the  lowest  rank  there  is. 
I  have  often  thought  it  a  cui'ious  thing  that 
either  men  or  women  sliould  so  utterly  des- 
pise these  poor  instruments  of  their  sensual 
delights!" 

My  friend  saw  that  I  was  too  much 
shocked  to  moralize  on  the  suhject,  aud  he 
presently  began  to  explain,  and  to  modify 
the  facts  a  little. 

"You  see,  these  fellows,  when  they  begin 
this  sort  of  thing,  are  mostly  mei-e  boys, 
with  the  down  scarcely  started  on  their 
chins;  in  the  susceptible,  impressionable 
stage,  when  a  woman's  honeyed  woi'ds  —  ay, 
her  touch,  even  —  uiay  turn  the  world  upside 
down  to  them.  The  life,  of  course,  has  its 
attractions,  —  money  and  luxury;  to  say 
nothing  of  the  flattery,  which  is  sweeter. 
Still,  few,  if  auy,  adopt  it  deliberately. 
Often  they  are  wilily  drawn  into  ^  entangle- 
ments'  outside;  for  the  misery  of  it  is,  that 
good  society,  as  I  have  said  before,  throws 
its  cloak  anmud  tliese  specious  beguilers, 
and  the   unfortunate  dupe  does  not  dream 


140  Tllnvcilino  a  parallel. 

Avliitlier  he  is  Ijcing  led, —  youth  has  sueh  a 
sincere  faitli  in  beanty,  and  grace,  and  femi- 
nine chai'ni!  Sometimes  i-everses  and  dis- 
aster, of  one  Ivind  or  another,  or  a  cheerless 
home  environment,  drive  a  3'oung  man  into 
seeking  refuge  and  lethean  pleasures  here. 
It  is  a  foi-m  of  dissipation  similar  to  the 
di-ink  habit,  only  a  thousand  times  worse." 

"AYorseV"  I  cried.  '^  It  is  infernal,  di- 
abolical, damnable!  Audit  is  woman  who 
accomplishes  this  horrible  ruin!  —  and  is 
^  received'  in  society,  which,  if  too  flagrantly 
outraged,  will  not  forgive  her  unless  she 
marries  some  good  man !  " 

"O,iiot  always  that,"  protested  Severnius; 
'Hhe  unlucky  sinner  sometimes  recovers 
caste  by  a  course  of  penitence,  by  multiply- 
ing her  subscriptions  to  charities,  and  b}^ 
costly  i)eace-offerings  to  the  aforesaid  out- 
raged society." 

"AVhat    sort    of    peace-offerings?"      I 
asked. 

"Well,  an  entertainment,  2:»erhaps,  some- 
thing superb,  something  out  of  the  common; 
or  may  be  a  voyage  in  her  pi-ivate  yacht. 
Bait  of  that  sort  is  too  tempting  for  any  but 


TllnveiUnci  a  iparallel.  1^1 

tho  hi«;ii  and  mighty,  the  real  aristocrats,  to 
withstand.  The  simply  respectable,  but 
weak-hearted, —  who  are  a  little  below  her 
level  in  point  of  wealth,  position,  or  ances- 
try,—  fall  into  her  net.  I  have  observed  that 
a  woman  Avho  has  forfeited  her  place  in  the 
highest  rank  of  society  usually  begins  her 
reascent  by  clutching  hold  of  the  skirts  of 
honest  folk  who  are  flattered  by  her  con- 
descension, and  whose  sturdy  arms  assist 
her  to  rise  again.'' 

"•I  have  observed  the  same  thing  myself," 
1  rejoined,  but  he  had  not  finished;  there 
was  a  twinkle  in  his  eye  as  he  went  on: 

"If  you  were  to  reveal  the  secret  of  your 
air-ship  to  a  woman  of  this  kind  she  would 
probably  seize  upon  it  as  a  means  of  salva- 
tion; she  would  have  one  constructed,  on  a 
large  and  handsome  scale,  and  invite  a  party 
to  accompany  her  on  an  excursion  to  the 
Earth.  And  though  she  were  the  worst  of 
her  class,  every  mother's  son — and  daugh- 
ter—  of  us  Avould  accept!  for  none  of  us 
hold  our  self-respect  at  a  higher  figure  than 
that,  I  unagine." 


142  'dnreilnui  a  parallel. 

"Yes,  Scve'riiiiis,  yuii  do,"  I  ri'pliL'cl  vm- 
pbatically. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon !  I  would  knock  (►ff 
a  good  deal  for  a  visit  to  30iir  planet,"  he 
said,  laughing. 

By  this  time  we  had  left  Cupid's  Gardens 
far  behind.  Tlie  road  bent  in  again  toward 
the  river,  Avhieh  we  i)resently  crossed.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  the  dreadful  things  I  had 
just  listened  to,  I  think  I  should  have  been  in 
transports  over  the  serene  loveliness  of  the 
prospect  around  us.  The  view  Avas  espe- 
cially fine  from  the  summit  of  the  bi'idge;  it 
is  a  ^"^  high"  bridge,  for  the  G^'ro  is  navigated 
by  great  steam-ships  and  high-masted 
schooners. 

Severnius  bade  the  driver  stop  a  moment 
that  we  might  contemplate  the  scene,  but  I 
had  little  heart  for  its  beauties.  And  3'et  I 
can  recall  the  picture  now  with  extraordi- 
nary clearness.  The  river  has  many  wind- 
ings, and  the  woods  often  hide  it  from 
view;  but  it  reappears,  again  and  again, 
afar  off,  in  green  meadows  and  yellowing 
fields, —  opalescent  jewels  in  gold  or  emer- 
ald  setting.     Here    and  there,    in  the    dis- 


IHnveilinti  a  iparallel.  143 

tanec,  white  nails  were  niuviiig  as  il"  on  land. 
Far  l)oyond  were  vague  iiiounlain  outlines, 
and  over  all,  the  tender  I'ose-bliish  of  the 
sky.  The  sweetness  of  it,  contrasted  with 
Ihe  ]iicture  newly  wronght  in  my  mind,  sad- 
dened me. 

Some  distance  np  the  river,  on  the  other 
side,  we  passed  an  old,  dilapidated  villa,  or 
group  of  buildings  jumbled  together  "with- 
out regard  to  effect  evidently,  but  yet 
i)icturesque.  They  were  half  hidden  in 
mammoth  forest  trees  that  had  never  been 
trimmed  or  trained,  but  spread  their  enor- 
mous limbs  wheresoever  they  Avoidd.  Un- 
pruned  shrubbery  and  trailing  vines  rioted 
over  the  uneven  lawn,  and  the  rank,  wind- 
blo^vn  grass,  too  long  to  stand  erect,  lay  in 
waves  like  a  woman's  hair. 

In  a  general  way,  the  lawn  sloped  down- 
ward toward  the  road,  so  that  we  could  see 
nearly  the  whole  of  it  over  the  high,  and 
ugly,  board  fence  wdiich  inclosed  it.  Under 
the  trees,  a  little  way  back,  I  o1)served  a 
group  of  young  girls  lolling  in  hannnocks 
and  idhng  in  rustic  chairs.  They  caught 
sight  of  us  and  sprang  up,  laughing  boist- 


144  "mnvdlinci  a  iparallel. 

terously.  1  thought  tlicy  were  going  to  run 
away  in  pi-etendcd  and  playf'nl  flight;  but 
instead,  they  came  toward  us,  and  l)lew 
kisses  at  ns  off  their  fingei's. 

I  looked  at  Severnins.  "  What  does  tliis 
mean?"  I  asked. 

"Why,"  he  said,  and  the  l)hish  mantled 
his  handsome  face  again,  "this  phice  is  the 
conntcri)art  of  Cupid's  Gardens,  —  a  resort 
for  men." 

"  I  thonght  so,"  I  rephed. 

By-and-by  ho  remarked,  "  \  hope  yon 
will  not  form  too  bad  an  opinion  of  us,  my 
friend!  You  have  learned  to-day  what 
horrible  evils  exist  among  ns,  but  I  assure 
you  that  the  sum  total  of  the  people  who 
jDractice  them  constitutes  but  a  small  pro- 
portion of  om*  popidation.  And  the  good 
people  here,  the  great  majority,  look  upon 
these  things  with  the  same  aversion  and 
disgust  that  you  do,  and  are  doing  their 
l)est  —  or  they  think  they  are  —  to  abolish 
them." 

"How?  —  by  legislation?"  I  asked. 

"Partly;  but  more  through  education. 
Om*  preachers  and  teachers  have  taken  the 


■mnvclling  a  iparallel.  115 

matter  up,  but  they  arc  liaudicapped  by  the 
tleUeacy  of  the  ({uestiou  aud  the  privacy 
involved  in  it,  which  seems  to  hinder  dis- 
cussion even,  and  to  fori'stall  advice. 
Though  this  is  the  only  way  to  accom- 
plish an3thing-,  1  think.  I  have  very  little 
lailh  in  legislative  measures  against  secret 
vices;  it  is  like  trying  to  dam  a  stream  which 
cannot  be  dammed  but  must  break  out 
somewhere.  I  am  convinced  that  my 
friends,  the  Caskians,  have  solved  the 
question  in  the  only  possible  way, —  by 
elevating  and  [)urifying  the  marriage  rela- 
tion. 1  hope  some  good  may  be  accom- 
l)lished  by  the  visit  of  the  few  who  are 
coming  here !  " 

"Will  tl  ley  preach  or  Icctiu-e?"  I  asked, 
Avith  what  seemed  to  me  a  moment  later  to 
be  stupid  sim])licily. 

"O,  no!''i-e])lied  Se^■ernius,  with  the  same 
air  of  modest  but  emphatic  protest  which 
they  themselves  would  have  doubtless  as- 
sumed had  the  question  been  jmt  to  tb.em. 
''  It  was  simply  their  personal  inlluence  I 
had  reference  to.  I  do  not  knoAv  that  T  can 
make   you   understand,  but   their   presence 


U6  TUnvcilino  a  iparaUcl. 

always  sooiikmI  to  me  like  a  disinfectant  of 
evil.  With  myself,  when  I  was  among 
them,  all  the  u;()o(l  that  was  in  me  responded 
to  their  nobiHty;  the  evil  in  me  slept,  T 
sup])Ose."'' 

I  made  a  skeptieal  rejoinder  to  tlic  im])n- 
eation  in  his  last  sentence,  for  to  me  he 
seemed  entirely  devoid  of  evilj  and  we 
finished  the  drive  in  silence. 


Cbaptcr  7. 

NEW    FEIENDS. 

"Having  established  his  equality  with  class  after  class, 
of  those  with  whom  he  would  live  well,  he  still  finds  cer- 
tain others,  before  whom  he  cannot  possess  himself,  be- 
cause they  have  somewhat  fairer,  somewhat  grander, 
somewhat  purer,  which  extorts  homage  of  him." — 
Emerson. 

It  is  scarcely  egotistical  for  me  to  say 
that  I  was  much  sought  after,  not  only  by 
the  citizens  of  Thursia,  Ijut  l)y  many  distin- 
guished people  from  other  cities  and  coun- 
tries. Among  them  Avere  many  men  and 
Avomen  of  great  scientific  learning,  who 
made  me  feel  that  I  ought  to  luive  i)rovide(1 
myself  with  a  better  equipment  of  knowledge 
relative  to  my  own  world,  before  taking  my 
ambitious  journey  to  Mars!  Tliey  were  ex- 
ceedingly i)()liU',  l)ut  1  fear  they  wci'c  much 
disappointed  in  many  of  my  hazy  I'csponses 


148  'QlnvciluHl  a  ipaiallel. 

to  their  eager  qiie.stionings.  I  learned  by 
this  experience  the  great  vakie  of  exact  in- 
formation. In  a  country  Hke  onrs,  where  so 
much,  and  so  many  sorts,  of  knowledge  are 
in  the  air,  a  person  is  apt,  unless  he  is  a 
student  of  some  particular  thing,  to  get 
little  more  than  impressions. 

There  was  I, —  an  average  (let  me  hope!) 
American  citizen, — at  the  mercy  of  inquisitive 
experts  in  a  hundred  different  arts  and  ti'ades, 
concerning  which,  in  the  main,  my  ideas 
might  be  conservatively  described  as  "  gene- 
ral." You  may  imagine  how  unsatisfactory 
this  was  to  ])eople  anxious  to  know  about 
our  progress  in  physics  and  chemistry,  bot- 
any, and  the  great  family  of  ^^  ologies," — or 
rather  about  our  processes  in  developing 
the  principles  of  these  great  sciences. 

With  tlie  astronomers  and  the  electricians 
I  got  along  all  right;  and  I  was  also  able  to 
make  myself  interesting, —  or  so  I  fancied — 
in  describing  our  social  life,  our  educational 
and  political  institutions,  and  our  various 
forms  of  religion.  Our  modes  of  dress  were 
a  matter  of  great  curiosity  to  most  of  these 


■mnvdUnc}  a  iparallel.  149 

people,  and  I  was  often  asked  to  exhibit  my 
terrestial  garments. 

It  was  Avhen  the  crowd  of  outside  visitors 
was  at  its  thickest  that  the  Caskians  arrived, 
and  as  their  stay  was  bi-ief,  covering  only 
two  days,  you  may  suppose  that  we  did  not 
advance  far  on  the  road  to  mutual  acquain- 
tance.     But   to   tell   the   truth,  there   was 
not   a   moment's    strangeness    between    us 
after    we    had    once    clasped     hands    and 
looked   into  each   othei-'s   eyes.      It   mio-ht 
have  been  partly  due  to  my  own  prepared- 
ness to  meet  them  with  confidence  and  ti-ust; 
but  more,  I  think,  to  their  singular  freedom 
from  the  conventional   barriers  with  which 
we  hedge  round  our  selfness.     Their  souls 
spoke  to  mine,  and  mine  answered  back,  and 
the  compact  of  friendship  was  sealed  in  a 
glance. 

I  cannot  hope  to  give  you  a  very  clear  idea 
of  their  perfect  natm-alness,  their  perfect 
dignity,  theii-  kindliness,  or  their  delightful 
gayety,  — Ijcfore  which  stiffness,  formality, 
ceremony,  were  borne  down,  dissolved  as 
smishine  dissolves  frost.  Xo  mensti'uum  is  so 
wondei'ful  as  the  quality  of  merriment,  take 


l-''^  TllnvciUnfi  a  parallel. 

it  on  any  ])l:nu'  of  lilo;  wlicii  it  I'cnclu's  tlic 
liigliest,  and  is  siil)tilized  l)y  cnltnred  and 
reiinod  intellects,  it  creates  an  atmos])here 
in  which  the  most  frigid  antocrat  of  society, 
and  of  learning,  too,  mnst  thaw.  The 
hanghtiest  dame  cannot  keep  her  connte- 
nance  in  the  face  of  this  playfnl  spirit  toying 
Avith  her  frills.  The  veriest  old  dry-as-dnst, 
hibernating  in  monldy  arclneological  cham- 
bers, cannot  resist  the  blithesome  thonght 
which  dares  to  illmnine  his  antique  treasni'cs 
with  a  touch  of  mirth. 

I  was  struck  by  Clytia's  beauty,  which  in 
some  ways  seemed  finer  than  Elodia's.  The 
two  women  were  about  the  same  height  and 
figure.  But  Clytia's  coloriug  was  pure 
Avhite  and  black,  except  for  the  healthy  car- 
mine of  her  lips,  and  occasional  fluctuations 
of  the  rose  tint  in  her  cheeks. 

I  was  present  when  they  first  met,  in  the 
drawing-room.  Elodia  rose  to  her  full  stat- 
ure, aruied  cap-a-pie  with  her  stateliest  man- 
ner, but  with  a  gracions  sense  of  hospitality 
npon  her.  I  mai-ked  with  pleasure  that 
Clytia  did  not  rush  upon  her  with  any  exu- 
berance of  gladness,  —  as  some  women  would 


"Ulnveilinfl  a  iparallcl.  l-'*^ 

liave  done  in  a  first  meeting  Avitli  their  friend's 
sister,  —  for  that  would  have  disgusted  Elodia 
and  driven  her  to  still  higher  ground.  How 
curious  are  our  mental  attitudes  toward  oui- 
associates,  and  how  quickly  ad  justed !  Ilei'e 
had  I  been  in  Elodia's  house,  enjoying  her 
companionship  —  if  not  her  friendship  —  for 
months;  and  yet,  you  see,  I  secretly  did  not 
wish  any  advantage  to  be  on  her  side.  It 
could  not  have  been  disloyalty,  for  the  impulse 
was  swift  and  involuntaiy.  I  would  like 
to  suppose  that  it  sprang  from  my  instan- 
taneous recognition  of  the  higher  nature; 
but  it  did  not.  It  was  due,  no  doubt,  to  a 
fear  for  the  more  timid  one  —  as  I  fancied  it 
to  be.  I  had  a  momentary  sensation  as  of 
Avanting  to  "back"  Clytia,  —  knoAving  how 
formidable  my  proud  hostess  could  be,  and, 
I  feared,  would  be,  —  but  the  beautiful 
Caskian  did  not  need  ni}'  su])port.  She  was 
not  timid.  I  never  saw  auA'thing  finer  than 
her  manner;  the  most  consummate  woman 
of  the  world  could  not  have  met  the  situa- 
tion Avith  more  dignity  and  grace,  and  Avith 
not  half  so  much  simplicity.  Her  limpid 
dark  eyes  met  f]lodia's  blue-rayed  ones,  and 


i;")2  innveiling  a  iparallel. 

the  result  was  mutual  respect,  Avitli  a  slight 
giviug  on  Elodia's  part. 

I  felt  that  I  had,  for  the  fii'st  time  in  ni}^ 
life,  seen  a  perfect  woman ;  a  woman  of  such 
fine  proportions,  of  such  nice  balance,  that 
her  noble  virtues  and  high  intelligence  did 
not  make  her  forget  even  the  smallest  amen- 
ities. She  kept  in  hand  evei-y  faculty  of  her 
triple  being,  so  that  she  was  able  to  nse  each 
in  its  turn  and  to  give  to  everything  about 
her  its  due  appreciation.  She  had,  as  Balzac 
saNS,  the  gift  of  admiration  and  of  compre- 
hension. That  which  her  glance  rested  up- 
on, that  which  her  ear  listened  to,  responded 
Avith  all  that  Avas  in  them.  I  thought  it  a 
wonderful  power  that  could  so  l)ring  out  the 
innate  beauties  and  values  of  even  inanimate 
tilings.  Elodia's  eyes  rested  upon  her,  from 
time  to  time,  with  a  keen  and  (piestioning  in- 
terest. I  think  that,  among  other  things, 
she  was  surprised  —  as  I  was  —  at  the  ele- 
gance, the  "style"  even,  of  Clytia's  dress. 

Although  there  is  very  little  fashion  on 
that  planet,  as  we  know  the  word,  thei-e  is  a 
great  deal  of  st^de.  I  had  speedily  mastered 
all  its  subtle  gradations,  and  could  "  place  " 


TUnvcilino  a  iparallel.  153 

a  woman  with  considerable  certainty,  by, 
let  me  say,  her  manner  of  wearing  her 
clothes,  if  not  the  clothes  themselves.  I 
have  never  studied  woman's  apparel  in  detail, 
it  always  seems  as  mysterious  to  me  as 
woman  herself  does;  but  I  have  a  good  eye 
for  effects  in  that  line,  as  most  men  have, 
and  I  knew  that  Clytia's  costume  was 
above  criticism.  She  wore,  just  where 
they  seemed  to  be  needed,  —  as  the  keystone 
is  needed  in  an  arch,  —  a  few  fine  gems.  I 
could  not  conceive  of  her  putting  them  on 
to  arouse  the  envy  of  any  other  woman,  or 
to  enhance  her  personal  charms  in  the  eyes 
of  a  man.  She  dressed  well,  as  another  Avould 
sing  well.  Sight  is  the  sense  we  value  most, 
but  how  often  is  it  offended!  You  can  esti- 
mate the  quality  of  a  woman  by  the  shade  of 
gi'een  she  chooses  for  her  gown.  And  there  is 
poetry  in  the  fit  of  a  gown,  as  there  is  in  the 
color  of  it.  Cl3'tia  knew  these  things,  these 
higher  principles  of  dress,  as  the  nightingale 
knows  its  song,  —  through  the  effortless 
working  of  i)ei'fected  faculties.  But  not  she 
alone.  IVIy  descrii)tion  of  her  Avill  answer  for 
the  others;  the  Caskians  are  a  peo]ile,  yon 


154  *Glnv>cilin(i  a  parallel. 

sec,  who  neglect  nothing'.  We  upon  tlie 
Earth  are,  in  the  hal)it  of  saying,  with  regret- 
fnl  cadence,  Life  is  short.  It  is  becanse  onr 
life  is  all  ont  of  proportion.  "We  are  trying 
to  cheat  time;  we  stnff  too  nuich  phmder 
into  onr  bags,  and  discriminate  against  the 
best. 

Clylia  and  Calypso  and  tlieir  friend  Ai'i- 
adiie,  a  yonng  girl,  stayed  with  ns  throngh- 
ont  their  visit;  the  others  of  their  party  were 
entertained  elsewhere.  On  each  of  the  two 
evenings  they  Avere  with  ns,  Elodia  invited  a 
considei'able  company  of  people, — not  so 
many  as  to  crowd  the  rooms,  nor  so  few  as 
to  make  them  seem  empty.  Those  gather- 
ings Avere  remarkable  events,  I  imagine,  in  a 
good  many  lives. 

They  were  in  mine.  At  the  close  of  each 
evening  I  retired  to  my  room  in  a  state  of  high 
mental  intoxication;  my  nnaccnstomed  ])rain 
had  taken  too  large  a  dranght  of  intellect- 
nal  champagne.  And  Avhen  I  awoke  in  the 
morning,  it  was  Avith  a  sense  of  fatigne  of 
mind,  the  same  as  one  feels  fatigue  of  body 
the  day  after  extraordinary  feats  of  physical 
exertion. 


TUnveilmti  a  parallel.  ^^^ 

But  not  so  tlie  guests!  who  came  down 
into  the  hreakfast  room  as  radiant  as  ever 
and  in  full  possession  of  themsehx's.  "With 
them  fatigue  seemed  impossihle.  AYe  do 
not  know — because  w^e  are  so  poorly  trained 
—  the  wonderful  elasticity  of  a  human 
being,  in  all  liis  parts.  We  often  see  it  ex- 
emplified in  single  faculties, —  the  voice  of  a 
singer,  the  legs  of  a  runner,  the  brain  of  a 
law}^^',  the  spirit  of  a  religionist.  But,  as  I 
have  said  before,  we  are  all  out  of  pro])or- 
tion,  and  any  slight  strain  upon  an  unused 
facult}'  gives  us  the  cramp.  The  fact  is,  the 
most  of  us  are  cripples  in  some  sense.  AYe 
lack  a  moral  leg,  a  spiritual  arm;  there  are 
parts  of  us  that  are  neglected,  withered, 
paralyzed. 

One  thing  in  the  Caskians  which  espe- 
cially pleased  me,  and  whicli  1  am  sure  made 
a  strong — and  favorable  —  impression  upon 
Elodia,  too,  was  that  their  conduct  and  con- 
versation never  lacked  the  vital  human  inter- 
est without  which  all  philosophy  is  cold,  and 
all  religion  is  asceticism. 

It  appeared  that  these  people  had  taken 
the  long   journey  not  only  to  meet  me,  but 


i''>6  'Glnvdlino  a  parallel. 

that  they  might  extend  to  me  in  2:)crson  a 
cordial  invitation  to  visit  their  conntry. 
Severnins  wai-mly  nrged  me  to  accept,  as- 
suring me,  witli  unmistakable  sincerity,  that 
it  would  give  him  pleasure  to  put  his  purse 
at  my  disposal  for  the  expenses  of  the  jour- 
ney,—  I  having  brought  up  this  point  as  a 
rather  serious  obstacle.  As  it  would  only 
add  one  more  item  to  the  great  sum  of  my 
indebtedness  to  my  friend,  I  took  him  at  his 
word,  and  gave  my  promise  to  the  Caskians 
to  make  the  journey  to  Lunismar  some- 
time in  the  near  future.  And  with  that 
they  left  us,  and  left  behind  them  matter  for 
conversation  for  many  a  day. 


Chapter  8, 

A    TALK    AYITH    ELODIA. 

"It  behoveth  us  also  to  consider  the  nature  of  liini 
that  ofFendeth." —  Sp:Ni-;rA. 

The  longer  I  delayed  my  visit  to  Caskia, 
the  more  diilieidt  it  beeaine  for  me  to  tear 
myself  away  from  Thursia.  You  may  guess 
the  lodestar  that  held  me  l)aelv.  It  was  as 
if  I  were  attaehed  to  Elodia  by  an  invisible 
chain  which,  alas!  in  no  way  hindered  her 
free  movements,  because  she  was  uncon- 
scious of  its  existence.  Sometimes  she 
treated  me  with  a  charmingly  frank  cama- 
raderie., and  at  other  limes  her  manner  was 
simply,  almost  coldly,  courteous, —  which  I 
veiy  well  knew  to  be  due  to  the  fact  that 
she  was  more  than  usually  absorbed  in  her 
busini'ss  oi*  ollicial  allairs;  she  was  never 
cold  for  a  purpose,  any  more  than  she  Avas 

l.">7 


158  irinvcUino  a  iParallel. 

fasciiialiii*;'  foi"  a  ])iir|)()sc.  She  Avas  singu- 
larly sincere,  affecting  neither  smiles  nor 
frowns,  neither  affability  nor  severity,  fi'oni 
remote  or  calculating  motives.  In  brief,  she 
did  not  employ  her  feminine  graces,  her  sex- 
power,  as  speculating  capital  in  social  com- 
merce. The  social  conditions  in  Thursia  do 
not  demand  that  Avomen  shall  pose  in  a  con- 
ciliatory attitude  towai'd  men  —  upon  whose 
favor  their  deai-est  pi'i\ileges  hang.  Mar- 
riage not  being  an  economic  necessity  with 
them,  they  are  released  from  certain  sordid 
motives  which  often  actuate  Avomen  in  our 
world  in  their  frantic  efforts  to  avert  the 
'api)alling  catastrophe  of  missing  a  husband; 
and  they  are  at  liberty  to  operate  their  mat- 
rimonial campaigns  upon  other  grounds.  I 
do  not  say  higher  grounds,  because  that  I 
do  not  know^  I  only  know  that  one  base 
factor  in  the  marriage  })roblem, — the  ignoble 
scheming  to  secure  the  means  of  living,  as 
I'cpreseuted  in  a  husjjand, —  is  eliminated, 
and  the  spirit  of  woman  is  that  nuich  more 
free. 

AYe  men  have  a  feeling  that  we  are  liable 
at  any  time  to  l)e  entrap[)e;l  into  matrimony 


"ClnvcUinG  a  iparallel.  l'">9 

by  a  mask  of  oiiniiiiig-  and  deceit,  wliicli 
heredity  and  long;  practice  enable  women 
to  use  with  such  amazing  Bkill  that  few  can 
escape  it.  We  CA'pect  to  he  cang-ht  with 
chaff,  like  fractious  colts  corpietting-  Avith 
the  halter  and  secretly  not  nnwilHng  to  ])e 
caught. 

Another  thing:  Avoman's  freedom  to  ])ro- 
pose — which  struck  me  as  monstrous — takes 
aAvay  the  reproach  of  her  remaining  single; 
the  supposition  being,  as  in  the  case  of  a 
bachelor,  that  it  is  a  matter  of  choice  Avith 
her.  It  saves  her  the  dread  of  havinjj:  it  said 
that  she  has  ncA^'r  liad  an  opportunity  to 
marry. 

Courtship  in  Thursia  may  lack  some  of 
the  tantalizing  uncertainties  Avliich  giA^e  it 
zest  with  us,  but  marriage  also  is  robbed  of 
many  doul)ts  and  misgivings.  Still  I  could 
not  accustom  myself  Avith  any  feehng  of 
comfort  to  the  situation  there, —  the  idea  of 
mascuhiie  ])re-emin('nce  and  Avomaidy  de- • 
pendence  being  too  thoroughly  ingiained 
in  my  nature. 

Elodia,  of  course,  did  many  things  and 
lu'ld    many    opinions    cd'     which    I    did    not 


160  Iflnveiling  a  parallel. 

approve.  But  I  bc'licwd  in  lur  innate 
nobility,  and  attributed  lier  defects  to  a 
pernicious  civilization  and  a  governnunt 
which  did  not  exercise  its  ])aternal  right 
to  cherish,  and  restrain,  and  protect,  the 
weaker  sex,  as  they  should  be  cherished, 
and  restrained,  and  protected.  And  how 
charming  and  how  reliable  she  was,  in  spite 
of  her  defects!  8he  had  an  atomic  weight 
upon  which  you  could  dei)end  as  upon  any 
other  known  quantity.  Her  ])resence  was  a 
stimulus  that  (inickcned  the  faculties  and 
intensified  the  emotions.  At  least  I  may 
speak  for  myself;  she  awoke  new  feelings 
and  aroused  new  powers  within  me. 

Her  life  had  made  hci'  pi-actical  but  not 
prosaic.  She  liad  imagination  and  poetic 
feeling;  there  were  times  when  her  beau- 
tiful countenance  was  touched  with  the 
grandeur  of  lofty  th(night,  and  again  with 
the  shifting  lights  of  aplayfid  humor,  or  the 
flashings  of  a  keen  but  kindly  wit.  She  had 
a  laugh  that  melloAved  the  heart,  as  if  she 
took  you  into  her  ccmfidence.  It  is  a  mark 
of  extreme  favor  when  your  superior,  or  a 
beautiful  woman,  admits  you  to  the  intimacy 


TUnvcUing  a  parallel.  if^l 

of  a  cordial  laugh !  Even  her  smiles,  Avhich 
I  used  to  lie  in  wait  for  and  often  tried  to 
provoke,  were  not  the  mere  froth  of  a  Hght 
and  careless  temperament;  they  had  a  sig- 
nificance like  speech.  Though  she  was  so 
busy,  and  thongh  she  knew  so  well  how  to 
make  the  moments  count,  she  could  be  idle 
when  she  chose,  deliciously,  luxuriously 
idle,  —  like  one  who  will  not  fritter  away  his 
pence,  but  upon  occasion  spends  his  guineas 
handsomely.  At  the  dinner  hour  she  always 
gave  us  of  her  best.  Her  varied  life  sup- 
plied her  with  much  material  for  conversa- 
tion,—  nothing  worth  noticing  ever  escaped 
her,  in  the  life  and  conduct  of  people  about 
her.  She  was  fond  of  anecdote,  and  could 
garnish  the  simplest  story  with  an  exquisite 
grace. 

Upon  one  of  her  idle  da^^s, —  a  day  Avhen 
Severnius  happened  not  to  l)e  at  home, — she 
took  up  her  parasol  in  the  hall  after  we  had 
had  luncheon,  and  gave  me  a  glance  which 
said,  "  Come  wdth  me  if  you  like,"  and  we 
went  out  and  strolled  through  tlie  g]-ounds 
together.  Her  manner  had  not  a  touch  of 
coquetry ;  I  might  have  been  simply  another 


162  TUnvciliiifl  a  paiallcl. 

woman,  slio  iiii<^lit  have  l)ceii  .simply  anotlu'i* 
man.  But  I  way  so  slnpid  as  to  essay  little 
gallantries,  such  as  had  been,  in  fact,  a  part 
of  my  youthful  education;  she  either  did 
not  ojjserve  them  or  ignored  them,  I  could 
n(jt  tell  Avhich.  Once  I  put  out  my  hand  to 
assist  her  over  a  ridiculously  narrow  stream- 
let, and  she  paid  no  heed  to  the  gesture,  but 
reefed  her  skirts,  or  draperies,  with  her  own 
imoccupied  hand  and  stepped  lightly  across. 
Again,  when  we  were  about  to  ascend  an 
abrupt  hill,  I  courteously  offered  her  my 
arm. 

"  O,  no,  I  thank  you!  "she  said;  "I  have 
two,  which  balance  me  very  avcU  when  I 
climb." 

"You  are  a  strange  woman,"  I  exclaimed 
with  a  blush. 

"Am  I?"  she  said,  lifting  her  brows. 
"Well,  I  suppose  —  or  rather  you  suppose  — 
that  I  am  the  product  of  my  ancestry  and 
my  training." 

"You are,  in  some  respects,"  I  assented; 
and  then  I  added,  "I  have  often  tried  to 
fancy  what  effect  our  civilization  would 
have  had  upon  you," 


TUnvcfUnG  a  Iparallel.  163 

"  What  effect  do  you  think  it  would  have 
had?"  yhe  asked,  with  quite  an  unusual  — 
I  might  say  earthly  —  curiosity. 

"I  dare  not  tell  you,"  1  replied,  thrilling 
with  the  felicity  of  a  talk  so  personal, — the 
first  I  had  ever  had  with  her. 

"Why  not?"  she  demanded,  with  a  side 
glance  at  me  from  under  her  gold-fringed 
shade. 

"  It  would  be  taking  too  great  a  liberty." 

"But  if  I  pardon  that?"  There  was  an 
archness  in  her  smile  which  was  altogether 
womanly.  AYhat  a  grand  opportunity,  I 
thought,  for  saying  some  of  the  things  I 
had  so  often  wanted  to  say  to  her!  but 
I  hesitated,  turning  hot  and  then  cold. 

"Really,"  I  said,  "I  cannot.  I  should 
flatter  you,  and  you  would  not  like  that." 

For  the  first  time,  I  saw  her  face  crimson 
to  the  temples. 

"That  Avoidd  be  very  bad  taste,"  she  re- 
plied ;  "  flattery  Ijeing  the  last  resort  —  when 
it  is  found  that  there  is  nothing  in  one  to 
compliment.  Silence  is  better;  you  have 
commendable  tact." 

"Pardon    my  stupid  blunder!"   I   cried; 


164  TUnvcUini?  a  paiallcl. 

^'  you  cannot  think  I  meant  that !  Flattery 
is  exai;g-erated,  absui'd,  unmeaning  j)raise, 
and  no  praise,  the  highest,  tlie  best,  could 
do  you  justice,  could — " 

She  broke  in  Avith  a  disdainful  laugh: 

"A  woman  can  always  compel  a  pretty 
speech  from  a  man,  you  see, —  even  in 
Mars!" 

"You  did  not  compel  it,"  I  rejoined  ear- 
nestly, "if  I  but  dared, —  if  you  would  allow 
me  to  tell  you  what  I  think  of  you,  how 
highly  I  regard  —  " 

She  made  a  gestm-e  which  cut  short  my 
eloquence,  and  we  walked  on  in  silence. 

Whenever  there  has  been  a  disturbance 
in  the  moral  atmosphere,  there  is  nothing 
like  silence  to  restore  the  equilibrium.  I, 
watching  furtively,  saw  the  slight  cloud 
pass  from  her  face,  leaving  the  intelligent 
serenity  it  usually  wore.  But  still  she  did 
not  speak.  However,  there  was  nothing 
ominous  in  that,  she  was  never  troubled  with 
an  uneasy  desire  to  keep  conversation  going. 

On  top  of  the  hill  there  were  benches, 
and  we  sat  down.  It  was  one  of  those 
still    afternoons    in    summer    when   nature 


IHnvcilinii  a  parallel.  ^^>''> 

seems  to  be  taking'  a  siesta.  Overhead 
it  -was  like  the  lieart  of  a  rose.  The  soft, 
white,  cottony  elonds  we  often  see  sus- 
pended in  oiii-  azure  etliei',  floated  —  as  soft, 
as  white,  as  ileecy — in  the  ])ink  skies  of 
Mars. 

Elodia  closed  her  i)arasol  and  laid  it  across 
her  lap  and  leaned  her  head  back  against  the 
tree  in  whose  shade  we  were.  It  was  an 
acute  ])leasure,  a  rapture  indeed,  to  sit  so 
near  to  her  and  alone  Avith  her,  out  of  hear- 
ing of  all  the  world.  But  she  was  calmly 
unconscious,  her  gaze  wandei'ing  dreamily 
through  half-shut  lids  over  the  wide  land- 
scape, which  included  forests  and  fields  and 
meadows,  and  many  windings  of  the  river, 
for  we  had  a  high  point  of  observation. 

I  presently  broke  the  silence  Avith  a  bold, 
perha])s  an  inexcusable  rpiestion, 

"Elodia,  do  you  intend  ever  to  marry?" 

It  was  a  kind  of  challenge,  and  I  held  my- 
self rigid,  waiting  for  her  answer,  which  did 
not  come  immediately.  She  turned  her  eyes 
toward  me  slowly  without  moving  her  head, 
and  our  glances  met  aiid  gradually  retreated, 
as    two    oi)p<)sing    forces    might    meet    and 


166  IHnveiUnfl  a  iparallel. 

retreat,  neithei-  conquering,  neither  van- 
quished. Hers  Aveut  back  into  space,  and 
she  rephed  at  last  as  if  to  space,  —  as  if  the 
question  had  come,  not  from  me  alone,  but 
from  all  the  voices  that  nrge  to  matrimony. 

^'Why  should  I  marry?" 

"Because  you  are  a  woman,"  I  answered 
promptly. 

^'Ah!"  her  lip  curled  Avith  a  faint  smile, 
""'your  reason  is  very  general,  but  why  limit 
it  at  all,  why  not  say  because  I  am  one  of  a 
pair  which  should  be  joined  together?" 

The  question  was  not  cynical,  but  serious; 
I  scrutinized  her  face  closely  to  make  sure 
of  that  before  answering. 

""I  know,"  I  replied,  "that  here  in  Mars 
thei'e  is  held  to  be  no  difference  in  the 
nature  and  requirements  of  the  sexes,  but  it 
is  a  false  h}qx)thesis,  there  is  a  difference, — 
a  vast  difference!  all  my  knowledge  of 
humanity,  my  experience  and  observation, 
prove  it." 

"  Prove  it  to  3'ou,  no  doubt,"  she  returned, 
"  but  not  to  me,  because  my  exi)erience  and 
obsei'vation  have  been  the  reverse  of  yours. 
Will  3'ou  kindly  tell  me,"  she  added,  "^  why 


TUnvclliiHi  a  iparallel.  167 

you  tliiiik  I  should  wisli  to  many  any  moi-e 
tlian  a  man,  —  or  what  reasons  can  be  urged 
npon  a  woman  more  than  upon  a  man?" 

An  overi)owa'iing-  sense  of  helplessness 
fell  npon  me,  —  as  when  one  has  reached  the 
limits  of  another's  understanding  and  is 
unable  to  clear  the  ground  for  further  argu- 
ment. 

"O,  Elodia!  I  cannot  talk  to  you,"  I 
replied.  ""It  is  true,  as  you  say,  that  our 
conclusions  are  based  upon  diverse  premises ; 
we  are  so  wide  apart  in  our  views  on  this 
subject  that  what  I  would  say  must  seem  to 
you  the  merest  cant  and  sentiment." 

"I  think  not;  you  are  an  honest  man,"  she 
rejoined  with  an  encouraging  smile,  "  and  I 
am  greatly  interested  in  your  philosophy  of 
marriage." 

I  acknowledged  her  compliment. 

"Well,"  I  began  desperately,  letting  the 
words  tumble  out  as  they  woidd,  "it  is 
woman's  nature,  as  I  understand  it,  to  care 
a  great  deal  about  being  loved, — loved 
wholly  and  entii'cly  by  one  man  wdio  is 
worthy  of  her  love,  and  to  be  imited  to  him 
in  the  sacred  bonds  of  mai-riaire.     To  have 


168  "ClnvciUnfl  a  parallel. 

a  hnsbaiid,  cliildivii;  to  assume  the  sweet 
obligations  of  family  ties,  and  to  gather  to 
herself  the  tenderest  and  purest  affections 
hmnanit}^  can  know,  is  surely,  indisputably, 
the  best,  the  highest,  noblest,  jirovinee  of 
woman." 

"And  not  of  man?" 

"  These  things  mean  the  same  to  men,  of 
course,"  I  replied,  "  though  in  lesser  degree. 
It  is  man's  office  —  with  us  —  to  ])uffet  Avith 
the  world,  to  wrest  the  means  of  li^■elihood, 
of  comfort,  luxury,  from  the  grudging  hand 
of  fortune.  It  is  the  highest  gi'ace  of  woman 
that  she  accepts  these  things  at  his  hands, 
she  honoi's  him  in  accej^ting,  as  he  honors 
her  in  l)estowing." 

I  Avas  aware  that  I  Avas  indulging  in  plati- 
tudes, but  the  platitudes  of  Earth  are  novel- 
ties in  ISIars. 

Her  eyes  took  a  long  leap  from  mine  to 
the  A'ague  horizon  line.  "  It  is  A^ery  strange," 
she  said,  '^  this  distinction  you  make,  I  can- 
not imderstand  it  at  all.  It  seems  to  me 
that  this  loA^e  aa^c  ai-e  talking  aliout  is  simply 
one  of  the  strong  instincts  imi)lanted  in  our 
common  natuie.     It  is  an  essential  of  our 


"ClnvciUno  a  Ipnrallcl.  169 

being'.  Marriage  is  not,  it  is  a  social  institu- 
tion; and  just  why  it  is  incumbent  upon  one 
sex  more  than  upon  the  other,  or  why  it  is 
more  desiraljle  for  one  sex  than  the  other, 
is  inconceivable  to  me.  If  either  a  man,  or 
a  woman,  desires  tlie  ties  you  speak  of,  or  if 
one  has  the  vanity  lo  Avish  to  found  a  res])ect- 
able  family,  then,  of  course,  marriage  is  a 
necessity, —  made  so  l)y  om*  social  and  politi- 
cal laws.  It  is  a  luxuiy  we  may  have  if  we 
pay  the  pi'ice." 

I  was  shocked  at  this  cold-blooded  reason- 
ing, and  ci'ied,  "O,  how  can  a  woman  say 
that!  have  you  no  tenderness,  Elodia?  no 
heart-need  of  these  ties  and  affections, — 
which  I  have  always  been  taught  are  so 
previous  to  woman?" 

She  shrugged  her  shouldiirs,  and,  leaning 
forward  a  little,  clasped  her  hands  about 
her  knees. 

"Let  us  not  make  it  2)ersonal,''' she  said; 
"I  admitted  that  these  things  belong  to 
our  common  nature,  and  I  do  not  of  course 
exce])t  myself,  l^ut  I  repeat  that  marriage  is 
a  convention,  and  —  T  am  not  convi'utional." 

"As  to  that,"  I  I'ctorted,  "all  the  things 


170  lllnvcilino  a  iParallcl. 

that  pertain  to  c-ivilization,  all  tlie  steps 
whieli  have  ever  l)een  taken  in  the  direetion 
of  jH'ogTess,  are  eonveiitions:  our  elothing, 
our  lumses,  onr  rehgions,  arts,  our  good 
manners.  And  we  are  bonnd  to  aeeept 
every  ^  convention '  that  makes  for  the  bet- 
terment of  society,  as  though  it  were  a  rev- 
eUition  from  God." 

I  confess  that  this  thought  was  the  fruit 
of  my  brief  intercourse  with  the  Caskians, 
who  liold  that  there  is  a  divine  power  con- 
tinually operating  upon  human  conscious- 
ness,—  not  disclosing  miracles,  but  enlarging 
and  ])erfecting  human  perceptions.  I  Avas 
thinking  of  this  when  Elodia  suddenly  put 
the  question  to  me : 

"Are  you  married?"" 

"^o,  I  am  not,"  I  replied.  The  inquiry 
Avas  not  agreeable  to  me;  it  implied  that  she 
had  been  hitherto  altogether  too  indifferent 
as  to  my  "eligibility," — never  having  con- 
cerned herself  to  ascertain  the  fact  before. 

"Well,  you  are  perhaps  older  than  I  am," 
she  said,  "  and  you  have  doubtless  had 
amours?" 

I  Avas  as  nuieh  astounded  by  the  frankness 


*Clnveil(nfl  a  iparallel.  171 

of  this  inquiry  as  you  can  lie,  and  1)luslied 
like  a  girl.  She  withdrew  her  eyes  from 
my  faee  with  a  faint  smile  and  eovered  the 
question  hy  another: 

"You  intend  to  mai'ry,  I  suppose?" 
"I  do,  certainly,"  I  replied,  the  resolution 
crystallizing  on  the  instant. 

She  drew  a  long  sigh.  "Well,  I  do  not, 
I  am  so  comfortahle  as  I  am."  She  patted 
the  gi'ound  with  her  slipper  toe.  "  I  do  not 
wish  to  impose  new  conditions  upon  myself. 
I  simply  accept  my  life  as  it  comes  to  me. 
Why  should  I  voluntarily  Inu'den  myself 
with  a  family,  and  all  the  ])ossible  cares  and 
sorrows  which  attend  the  marriage  state! 
If  I  cast  a  prophetic  eye  into  the  future, 
Avhat  am  I  likely  to  see?  —  Let  us  say,  a 
lovely  danghter  dying  of  some  frightful 
malady;  an  idolized  son  squandering  my 
wealth  and  going  to  ruin;  a  husl)and  in 
whom  I  no  longer  delight,  but  to  whom  I 
am  houud  1)\  a  hundred  intricate  ties  iin])os- 
sihle  to  sever.  I  think  I  am  not  prei)ared 
to  take  the  future  on  trust  to  so  great  an  ex- 
tent !  Wh}"  should  the  free  Avish  for  fetters? 
Affection   and    sympathy  are  good    things, 


172  TnnveiUim  a  parallel. 

hidispeiisable  Ibiiigs  in  fact, — but  I  find  tbem 
in  my  friends.  And  for  tbis  otber  matter: 
tbis  need  of  love,  passion,  sentiment, —  wbicb 
is  peeubarly  epliemeral  in  its  impulses,  not- 
witbstanding  tbat  it  bas  sneb  an  insistent 
vitality  in  tbe  buman  beart, —  may  be  sat- 
isfied witbont  entailing  sneb  tremendous 
responsibilities." 

I  looked  at  ber  agbast;  did  sbe  know 
wbat  sbe  was  saying;  did  sbe  mean  wbat 
ber  words  implied? 

*'You  wrong  yourself,  Elodia,"  said  I; 
"tbose  are  tbe  sentiments,  tbe  arguments, 
of  a  selfisb  person,  of  a  mean  and  cowardly 
s[)irit.  And  you  bave  none  of  tbose  at- 
tributes; you  are  strong,  courageous,  gen- 
erous— " 

"Yon  mistake  me,"  sbe  interi'upted,  "  I  am 
entirely  selfisb;  I  do  not  wisb  to  disturb  my 
])resent  agreeable  pose.  Tell  me,  wbat  is  it 
tbat  usually  prompts  peo23le  to  marry?" 

"Wby,  love,  of  course,"  I  answered. 

"  Well,  you  are  lialde  to  fall  in  love  witb 
my  maid — " 

"]^ot  after  baving  seen  ber  mistress!"! 
ejaculated. 


"Clnvciling  a  parallel.  l"*^ 

"If  she  happens  to  possess  a  face  or  figure 
that  draws  your  niaseuHue  eye,"  she  went  on, 
the  rising  color  in  her  chcelv  responding  to 
my  audacious  compliment;  "though  there 
may  he  nothing  in  common  between  you, 
socially,  intellectually,  or  spiritually.  What 
Avould  be  the  result  of  such  a  marriage, 
based  upon  simple  sex-love?" 

I  had  known  many  such  marriages,  and 
was  familiar  with  the  results,  but  I  did  not 
answer.  We  tacitly  dropped  the  sul^ject, 
and  our  two  minds  wandered  away  as  they 
w^ould,  on  separate  currents. 

She  was  the  first  to  break  this  second 
silence. 

"I  can  conceive  of  a  marriage,"  she  said, 
"which  would  not  become  burdensome,  any 
more  than  our  best  friendships  become  bur- 
densome. Beside  the  attraction  on  the 
l)hysical  plane  —  which  I  believe  is  very 
necessary  —  there  should  exist  all  the  higher 
affinities.  I  should  want  my  husband  to  be 
my  most  delightful  companion,  able  to  keep 
my  liking  and  to  conunand  my  respect  and 
confidence  as  I  should  hope  to  his.  But  I 
fear  that  is  ideal." 


i'J'4  IHnvcilnui  a  iParallcl. 

"The  ideal  is  only  the  highest  real,"  I 
answered,  "the  ideal  is  always  possible." 

"  Remotely ! "  she  said  with  a  laugh. 
"  The  chances  are  many  against  it." 

"But  even  if  one  were  to  fall  short  a 
little  in  respect  to  husband  or  wife,  I  have 
often  observed  that  there  are  compensations 
springing  out  of  the  relation,  in  other 
ways,"  I  returned. 

"You  mean  children?  O,  yes,  that  is 
true,  when  all  goes  well.  I  will  tell  you," 
she  added,  her  voice  dropping  to  the  tone 
one  instantly  recognizes  as  confidential, 
"  that  I  am  educating  several  children  in 
some  of  our  best  schools,  and  that  I  mean 
to  provide  for  them  with  sufficient  liberality 
when  they  come  of  age.  So,  you  see,  I 
have  thrown  hostages  to  fortune  and  shall 
l)robably  reap  a  harvest  of  gratitude, —  in 
place  of  filial  affection." 

She  laughed  with  a  touch  of  mockery. 

I  suppose  every  one  is  familiar  with  the 
experience  of  having  things  —  facts,  bits  of 
knowledge, —  "come"  to  him,  as  we  say. 
Something  came  to  me,  and  froze  the  mar- 
row in  my  bones. 


TUnvcfling  a  parallel.  17''> 

"Eloclia,"  I  ventured,  "you  asked  me  a 
very  plain  question  a  moment  ago,  will  you 
forgive  me  if  I  ask  you  the  same, —  have 
you  had  amours?  " 

The  expression  of  her  ftice  ehanged 
slightly,  which  might  have  been  due  to  the 
expression  of  mine. 

"  We  have  perhaps  grown  too  frank  with 
each  other,"  she  said,  "but  you  are  a  being 
from  another  world,  and  that  must  excuse 
us,— shall  it?" 

I  bowed,  unable  to  speak. 

"One  of  the  children  I  spoke  of,  a  little 
girl  of  six,  is  my  own  natural  child." 

She  made  this  extraordinary  confession 
with  her  glance  fixed  steadily  upon  mine. 

I  am  a  man  of  considerable  nerve,  but  for 
a  moment  the  world  was  dark  to  me  and  I 
had  the  sensation  of  one  falling  from  a 
great  height.  And  then  suddenly  relief 
came  to  me  in  the  thought.  She  is  not  to  be 
judged  by  the  standards  that  measure  mor- 
ality in  my  country!  "Wlien  I  coidd  com- 
mand my  voice  again  I  asked: 

"Does  this  little  one  know  that  she  is 
your  child, —  does  any  one  else  know?" 


1'6  'dnvcUinfl  a  parallel. 

"  Certainly  not,"  she  answered  in  a  tone 
of  sui'i)rise,  and  then  with  an  ironical  smile, 
"  I  have  treated  you  to  an  exeeiitional  confi- 
dence. It  is  a  matter  of  etiquette  with  ns 
to  keep  these  things  hidden." 

As  I  made  no  response  she  added : 

"Is  it  a  new  thing  to  yon  for  a  parent 
not  to  acknowledge  illegitimate  children?" 

"Even  the  lowest  class  of  mothers  we 
have  on  Earth  do  not  often  abandon  their 
offspring,"  I  replied. 

"  Neither  do  they  here,"  she  said.  "  The 
lowest  class  have  nothing  to  gain  and  noth- 
ing to  lose,  and  consequently  there  is  no 
necessity  that  they  should  sacrifice  their 
natural  affections.  In  this  respect,  the 
lower  classes  are  better  off  than  we  aris- 
tocrats." 

"You  beg  the  question,"!  returned;  "you 
know  what  I  mean!  I  should  not  have 
thought  that  you,  Elodia,  could  ever  be 
moved  by  such  unworthy  considerations  — 
that  you  w^ould  ever  fear  the  world's  opin- 
ions !  you  who  i^rof ess  manly  qualities,  the 
noblest  of  which  is  courage ! " 

"Am  I  to  understand  by  that,"  she  said, 


'Clnvciliim  a  iPaiallcl.  177 

^Hhat  men  on  your  planet  acknowledg-e 
their  illegitimate  progeny,  and  allow  them 
the  privileges  of  honored  sons  and  daugh- 
ters?" 

Pushed  to  this  extremity,  I  conld  recall 
but  a  single  instance, —  but  one  man  whose 
courage  and  generosity,  in  a  case  of  the 
kind  under  discussion,  had  risen  to  the  level 
of  his  crime.  I  rehited  to  her  the  story  of 
his  splendid  and  prolonged  life,  with  its  one 
blot  of  early  sin,  and  its  grace  of  practical 
repentance.  And  upon  the  other  hand,  I 
told  her  of  the  one  distinguished  modern 
woman,  who  has  had  the  hardihood  to  fjice 
the  world  Avith  her  offenses  in  her  hands,  as 
one  might  say. 

"Are  you  not  rather  luijnst  to  the 
woman?"  she  asked.  "You  speak  of  the 
man's  acknowledgment  of  his  sin  as  some- 
thing fine,  and  you  seem  to  regard  hers  as 
simply  impudent." 

"Because  of  the  vast  difference  between 
the  moi'al  attitude  of  the  two,"  I  rejoined. 
"lie  confessed  his  error  and  took  his  ])un- 
ishnient    with    humility;     she    slaps   society 


I'^y  "Clnvciling  a  ipavallcl. 

in  the  face,  and  tries  to  make  licr  genius 
glorify  her  misdeeds." 

^'Possibly  society  is  to  blame  for  that,  by 
setting  her  at  bay.  If  I  have  got  the  right 
idea  al)out  your  society,  it  is  as  nnrelenting 
to  the  one  sex  as  it  is  indulgent  to  the  other. 
Doubtless  it  was  ready  with  open  aruis  to 
receive  back  the  offending,  repentant  man, 
but  would  it  not  have  set  its  foot  ni)on  the 
woman's  neck  if  she  had  given  it  the  chance, 
if  she  had  knelt  in  hiunility  as  he  did?  A 
ti'ee  bears  fruit  after  its  kind;  so  does  a 
code  of  morals.  Gentleness  and  forgive- 
ness breed  repentance  and  reformation,  and 
harshness  begets  defiance."  She  added  with 
a  laugh,  "What  a  spectacle  your  civilization 
Avould  present  if  all  the  women  who  have 
sinned  had  the  genius  and  the  spirit  of  a 
Bei-nhardt ! " 

"  Or  all  the  men  had  the  magnanimity  of 
a  Franklin,"  I  retorted. 

"  Ti-ue !  "  she  said,  and  after  a  moment 
she  continued,  "I  aui  not  so  great  as  the 
one,  nor  have  I  the  ^effrontery'  of  the  other. 
But  it  is  not  so  much  that  I  lack  courage;  it 
is  rather,  perhaps,  a  delicate  consideration 


"QlnvciUng  a  iparallel.  179 

for,  and    concession   to,  the  good  oixlcr  of 
society." 

I  regarded  her  with  amazement,  and    she 
smiled. 

"  Really,  it  is  true,"  she  said.      "  I  believe 
in  social  order  and  I  pay  respect  to  it — " 

"By     concealing     your    own   transgres- 
sions," I  interpolated. 

"Well,  why  not?  Suppose  I  and  my 
cult  —  a  very  large  class  of  eminently  re- 
spectable sinners! — should  openly  trample 
u])on  this  time-honored  convention;  the  re- 
sult would  eventually  be,  no  doubt,  a  moral 
anarchy.  We  have  a  very  clear  sense  of 
our  responsibility  to  the  masses.  We  make 
the  laws  for  their  government,  and  we  allow 
ourselves  to  seem  to  be  governed  by  them 
also, —  so  that  they  may  believe  in  them. 
We  build  churches  and  ])ay  pew  rent, 
though  we  do  not  much  believe  in  the  reli- 
gious dogmas.  And  we  leave  off  wine 
when  we  entertain  temperance  peo])le." 

"But  why  do   you  do  these   things?"  I 
asked;  "to  what  end?" 

"8im])ly     for  the    preservatiou    of    good 
order  and  decency.     You  must    know   that 


180  TUnveilinG  a  iparallcl. 

the  pleasant  vices  of  an  elegant  person  are 
brutalities  in  the  nneultured.  The  masses 
have  no  tact  or  delicacy,  they  do  not  com- 
prehend shades  and  refinements  of  morals 
and  manners.  They  can  understand  exot- 
eric but  not  esoteric  philosophy.  AYe  have 
really  two  codes  of  laws." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  far  better  for  the 
masses — whom  you  so  highly  respect! — "  I 
said,  "if  you  Ave  re  to  throw  off  your  masks 
and  stand  out  before  them  just  as  you  are. 
Let  moral  anarchy  come  if  it  must,  and  the 
evil  be  consumed  in  its  own  flame;  out  of 
its  ashes  the  phajnix  always  rises  again,  a 
nobler  bird." 

"  How  picturesque !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  do 
you  know,  I  think  your  language  must  be 
rich  in  imagery.     I  should  like  to  learn  it." 

I  did  not  like  the  flippancy  of  this  speech, 
and  made  no  reply. 

After  a  brief  pause  she  added,  "  There  is 
truth  in  what  you  say,  a  liall  must  strike 
hard  before  it  can  rebound.  Society  must 
be  fearfully  outraged  before  it  turns  upon 
the  offender,  if  he  be  a  person  of  cou- 
sequencc.       13ut    you     cannot     expect    the 


TUnvcfUno  a  iparalld.  181 

offender  to  do  liis  worst,  to  dash  him- 
self to  pieces,  in  order  that  a  better  state  of 
morals  may  be  built  n])on  his  ruin.  We  have 
not  yet  risen  to  such  siil^hniity  of  devotion 
and  self-sacrifice.  T  think  the  fanlt  and  the 
remedy  both,  lie  more  with  the  good  people, 
— the  people  who  make  a  ])rinciple  of  moral 
conduct.  They  allow  us  to  cajole  them  into 
silence,  they  wink  at  our  misdeeds.  They 
know  what  we  ai-e  up  to,  luit  they  conceal 
the  knowledge, —  heaven  knows  why ! —  as 
carefully  as  we  do  our  vices.  Contenting 
themselves  with  breaking  ont  in  general 
denunciations  which  nobody  accepts  as 
personal  rebuke." 

This  was  such  a  familiar  picture  that  for 
a  moment  I  fancied  myself  up(jn  the  Earth 
again.  And  I  thought,  what  a  difficult 
position  the  good  have  to  maintain  every- 
where, for  having  accepted  the  champion- 
ship of  a  cause  whose  standards  are  the 
highest  and  best !  We  expect  them  to  be 
wise,  tender,  strong,  just,  stern,  merciful, 
charitable,  unyielding,  forgiving,  sinless, 
fearless. 

"Eludia,"    I    said    preseutly,  "you     can 


182  'Clnveiling  a  parallel. 

liaidly  imderytand  what  a  slioek  this  —  this 
conversation  has  been  to  me.  I  started  out 
with  saying  that  I  had  often  tried  to  fancy 
what  our  civilization  might  have  done  for 
you.  I  see  more  clearly  now.  You  are  the 
victim  of  the  harshest  and  crudest  assump- 
tion that  has  ever  been  upheld  concerning 
woman, — that  her  nature  is  no  finer,  holier 
than  man's.  I  have  revei-euced  womanhood 
all  my  life  as  the  highest  and  purest  thing 
under  heaven,  and  I  will,  I  must,  hold  fast 
to  that  faith,  to  that  rock  on  which  the  best 
traditions  of  our  Earth  are  founded." 

"Do  your  women  realize  what  they  have 
got  to  live  up  to?"    she  asked  ironically. 

"There  ai-e  things  in  men  which  offset 
their  virtues,"  I  returned,  in  justice  to  my 
own  sex.  "Where  men  are  sti'ong,  women 
are  gentle,  where  women  ai-e  faithful,  men 
are  brave,  and  so  on." 

"How  chai'ming  to  have  the  one  natui-e 
dovetail  into  the  other  so  neatly !  "  she  ex- 
claimed. "I  seem  to  see  a  vision,  shall  I 
tell  it  to  you, —  a  vision  of  your  Earth  ? 
In  the  Beginning,  you  know  that  is  the  v/ay 
in  which  all  our  traditions  start  out,  there 


■Qlnvdltnfl  a  parallel.  5*^3 

"Nvas  a  c^Tcat  hca])  of  Qualities  staclved  in  a 
pyramid  upon  tho  Earth.  And  the  human 
creatures  were  requested  to  step  uj)  aud 
help  themselves  to  such  as  suited  their 
tastes.  There  was  a  great  scramble,  and 
your  sex,  having  some  advantages  in  the 
way  of  muscle  and  limb, —  and  not  having 
yet  acquired  the  arts  of  courtesy  and  gal- 
lantry for  which  yon  are  now  so  distin- 
guished,—  pressed  forward  and  took  first 
choice.  JS^aturally  you  selected  the  things 
which  were  agreeable  to  ])ossess  in  them- 
selves, and  the  exercise  of  which  would 
most  redound  to  your  glory;  such  virtues  as 
chastit}^,  temperance,  patience,  modesty, 
piety,  and  some  minor  graces,  were  thrust 
aside  and  eventually  forced  ui)on  the 
weaker  sex, —  since  it  was  necessary  that  all 
the  Qualities  should  be  used  in  order  to 
make  a  complete  Human  i^atui'e.  Is  not 
that  a  pretty  fable?" 

She  arose  and  shook  out  her  di'apeiies 
and  s])read  her  i)aras()l.  There  were  crim- 
son spots  in  her  cheeks,  I  felt  that  I  had 
angered  her, —  and  on  the  other  hand,  she 


184  TllnvcUinci  a  Iparallcl. 

had  outi-agcd  my  finest  feelings.      But  we 
were  both  capable  of  selt'-governnient. 

"It  must  be  near  dinner  time,"  she  said, 
quietly. 

I  walked  along  by  her  side  in  silence. 

As  we  again  crossed  the  brooklet,  she 
stooped  and  picked  a  long  raceme  of  small 
white,  delicately  odorous  flowers,  and  together 
we  analyzed  them,  and  I  recognized  them 
as  Ijelonging  to  our  family  of  convallaria 
majalis.  This  led  to  a  discussion  of  com- 
parative botany  on  the  two  planets, —  a  safe, 
neutral  topic.  In  outward  appearance  our 
mutual  attitude  was  unchanged.  Inwardly, 
there  had  been  to  me  something  like  the 
moi-al  upheaval  of  the  universe.  Foi*  the 
first  time  I  had  melancholy  symptoms  of 
nostalgia,  and  passionately  regretted  that  I 
had  ever  exchanged  the  Earth  for  Mars. 

Severnius  had  returned.  After  dinner  he 
invited  me  out  onto  the  veranda  to  smoke  a 
cigar, —  he  was  very  particular  not  to  fill  the 
house  with  tobacco  smoke.  Elodia,  he  said, 
did  not  like  the  odor.  I  Avondercd  whether 
he  took  such  pains  out  of  consideration  for 
her,    or    whether    he    simply    dreaded   her 


"GlnvcUino  a  parallel.  185 

power  to  rolaliale  witli  lici-  ()l)noxi()ns  vapor. 
Tlie  laltc!"  siii)po.sition,  however,  1  immedi- 
ately reputliated  as  being  unjust  to  liiin;  he 
was  the  gentlest  and  sweetest  of  men. 

My  mind  was  so  full  of  the  sul)jectElodia 
and  I  had  diseussed  tliat  I  could  not  for- 
bear repeating  my  old  question  to  him: 
\  "Tell  me,  my  friend,"  I  entreated, 'Mo 
you  in  your  inmost  soul  believe  that  men 
and  women  have  one  common  nature, —  that 
wo^.nen  ai-e  no  better  at  all  than  men,  and 
thai  men  may,  if  they  will,  be  as  pure  as  — 
well^  as  women  ought  to  be?  " 

Severnius  smiled.  "If  you  cannot  find 
an  an>jwer  to  your  first  question  here  in  Pal- 
everiaj  I  think  you  may  in  any  of  the  sav- 
age coyntries,  where  I  am  quite  positive  tlie 
women  exhi])it  no  finer  qualities  than  their 
lords.  And  for  a  very  conclusive  rej)ly  to 
your  second  question, —  go  to  Caskia!" 

"Does\the  same  idea  of  equality,  or  like- 
ness ratli^r,  exist  in  Caskia  lliat  i)rcvails 
here?"Irt.kc'd. 

"O,  yes,"  said  he,  "but  their  ])hiue  of  life 
is  so  mucH  higher.  I  caunot  luit  believe  in 
the  equahty"  he  added,  "bad  as  things    are 


'^^(>  "UlnveiUng  a  Parallel. 

with  lis.  AYe  ho])e  that  we  are  progressing' 
onward  and  upward;  all  our  teaching  and 
preaching  tend  toward  that,  as  you  may  find 
in  our  churches  and  schools,  and  in  our  lit- 
erature. I  am  so  much  of  an  optimist  as 
to  believe  that  we  are  getting  better  and 
better  all  the  time.  One  evidence  is  tha: 
there  is  less  of  shamelessness  than  there 
used  to  be  with  respect  to  some  of  the 
grossest  offences  against  decency.  People 
do  not  now  glory  in  their  vices,  they  hide 
them." 

"Then  j^ou  approve  of  concealmen:!"  I 
exclaimed. 

^'It  is  better  than  open  effront'^y,  it 
shows  that  the  moral  power  in  society  is 
the  stronger;  that  it  is  making  thf  Avay  of 
the  transgressor  hard,  driving  lim  into 
dark  corners." 

I  contrasted  this  in  my  miiid  with 
Elodia's  theory  on  the  same  subiect.  The 
two  differed,  l)ut  there  was  a  certain  har- 
mony after  all. 

Severnius  added,  apropos  of  what  had 
gone  before,  "It  does  not  S(em  fair  to 
me     that    one     half   of    hununity    should 


TUnvciliuiT  a  (parallel.  ^^7 

hang  upon  the  skirts  of  the  other  half;  it 
is  better  that  we  shoukl  go  hand  in  hand, 
even  though  our  progress  is  sh:>w." 

"But  that  cannot  l)e,"  I  i-eturned;  "there 
are  always  some  that  must  bear  tlie  burden 
while  others  drag  behind." 

"O,  certainly;  that  is  quite  natural  and 
riffht,"  he  assented.  "  The  strong  should 
help  the  weak.  What  I  mean  is  that  we 
should  not  throw  the  burden  upon  any  par- 
ticular class,  or  allow  to  any  particular  class 
special  indulgences.  That  —  pardon  me! — 
is  the  foult  I  find  with  your  civilization;  you 
make  your  women  the  chancellors  of  virtue, 
and  claim  for  your  sex  the  privilege  of  being 
virtuous  or  not,  as  you  choose."  lie  smiled 
as  he  added,  "  Do  you  know,  your  loyalty 
and  tender  devotion  to  individual  women, 
and  your  antagonistic  attitude  toward 
women  in  general  —  on  the  moral  plane. — 
presents  the  most  singular  contrast  to  my 
mind !  " 

"]S'o  doubt,"  I  said;  "it  is  a  standing 
joke  with  us.  We  are  better  in  the  sample 
than  in  the  whole  piece.  As  individuals,  we 
are  woman's  devoted  slaves,  and  lovers,  and 


1^8  TUnveilino  a  parallel. 

worshipers;  as  a  political  body,  we  are  her 
masters,  from  whom  she  Avins  griulging  con- 
cessions;,  as  a  social  factor,  we  refuse  her 
dictation  " 

I  was  not  in  a  mood  to  discuss  the  matter 
further.  I  was  sick  at  heai-t  and  angry, — 
not  so  much  with  Elodia  as  Avith  the  condi- 
tions that  had  made  her  what  she  was,  a 
woman  perfect  in  eveiy  other  respect,  Init 
devoid  of  the  one  supreme  thing, —  the  sense 
of  virtue.  She  Avas  now  to  me  simply  a  splen- 
did ruin,  a  temple  without  holiness.  I  went 
up  to  my  room  and  spent  the  night  plunged 
in  the  deepest  sadness  I  had  ever  known. 
When  one  is  suffering  an  insuppoi-table 
agony,  he  catches  at  the  flimsiest  delusions 
for  momentary  relief.  He  says  to  himself, 
" My  friend  is  not  dead!  "  "  My  beloved  is 
not  false ! "  So  I  tried  to  cheat  myself. 
I  argued,  "Why,  this  is  only  a  matter  of 
education  Avith  me,  surely ;  hoAV  many  Avomen, 
with  finer  instincts  than  mine,  haA'e  loved 
and  married  men  of  exactly  the  same  stamp 
as  Elodia !  "  But  I  put  away  the  thought 
with  a  shudder,  feeling  that  it  Avould  be 
a   far   more    dreadful    thing    to    relax   my 


■mnveilino  a  iparallel.  189 

principle's  and  to  renounce  my  faitli  in 
woman's  purity  than  to  sacrifice  my 
love.  The  tempter  came  in  another  form. 
Supi^ose  she  should  repent?  But^my  soul 
revolted.  Xo,  no;  Jesus  might  pardon  a 
Magdalene,  but  I  could  not.  Elodia  was 
dead;  Elodia  had  uever  been!  That  night  I 
buried  her;  I  said  I  would  never  look  upon 
her  face  again.  But  the  morning  brought 
resurrection.  How  hard  a  thing  it  is  to 
destroy  love! 


Cbapter  9* 

JOUKXEYIXU    UPWAllD. 

*'The  old  order  changeth,  giving  place  to  the  new, 
And  God  fulfils  himself  in  many  ways."— Tennyson. 

My  conversation  with  Eloclia  had  the 
effect  of  ciystalhzing'  my  nebulous  phius 
about  visiting  the  Caskians  into  a  sudden 
resolve.  I  coukl  not  remain  longer  in  her 
presence  without  pain  to  myself;  and,  to  tell 
the  truth,  I  dreaded  lest  her  astounding  lack 
of  the  moral  sense  —  which  should  be  the 
foundation  stone  of  woman's  character  — 
would  eventually  dull  my  own.  Men  are 
notoriously  weak  Avhere  Avomen  JU'e  con- 
cerned— the  women  they  worshij). 

As  soon  as  I  had  comnumicated  with  the 
Caskians  and  learned  that  they  were  still 
anticipating  my  coming,  with — they  Avei-e 
so  kind  as  to  say  it  —  the  greatest  pleasure, 
I  prepared  to  set  forth. 

190 


"ClnveiUng  a  parallel.  191 

111  the  meantime,  an  event  oceuiTctlwhieli 
fin-ther  ilhisti-ated  the  soeial  conditions 
in  Paleveria.  Claris,  the  wife  of  Massilla, 
died  very  suddenly,  and  I  was  aston- 
ished at  the  tremendous  sensation  the  cir- 
cumstance occasioned  throughout  the  city. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  the  only  respect  it  was 
possible  to  pay  to  the  memory  of  such  a 
woman  must  be  that  which  is  expressed  in 
absolute  silence, —  even  charity  could  not  be 
expected  to  do  more  than  keep  silent.  But 
I  was  mistaken,  Claris  had  been  a  woman 
of  distinction,  in  many  ways;  she  was  beau- 
tiful, rich,  and  talented,  and  she  had  wielded 
an  influence  in  public  and  social  affairs. 
Immediately,  the  various  periodicals  in 
Thursia,  and  in  neighboring'  cities,  flaunted 
lengthy  eulogistic  olntuaries  headed  with 
more  or  less  well  executed  portraits  of  the 
deceased.  It  seemed  as  if  the  authors  of 
these  effusions  uuist  have  run  thi-ough  dic- 
tionaries of  complimentary  terms,  which 
they  culled  lavishly  and  inserted  among  the 
acts  and  facts  of  her  life  with  a  kind  of 
journalistic  sleight-of-hand.  And  i)rivate 
couHuent  took  its  cue  from  these  authorities. 


192  "GlnvcilinG  a  parallel. 

It  was  said  that  slic  was  a  woman  of  noble 
traits,  and  pretty  anecdotes  were  told  of 
her,  illustrating  her  generous  impulses,  her 
Avit,  her  positiveness.  She  had  had  great 
l)ersonal  magnetism,  many  had  loved  her, 
many  had  also  feared  her,  for  her  tongue 
could  cut  like  a  sword.  It  was  stated  that 
her  children  had  worshiped  her,  and  that  her 
death  had  prostrated  her  husband  with 
grief.  Of  the  chief  blackness  of  her  char- 
acter none  spoke. 

Severnius  invited  me  to  attend  the  funeral 
obsequies  which  took  place  in  the  Auroras' 
Temple,  where  the  embalmed  body  lay  in 
state;  Avith  incense  burning  and  innumerable 
candles  casting  their  pallid  light  upon  the 
bier.  I  observed  as  we  drove  through  the 
streets  that  the  closed  doors  of  all  the 
business  houses  exhibited  the  emblems  of 
I'espect  and  sorrow. 

The  Auroras  were  assembled  in  great  num- 
bers, having  come  from  distant  parts  of  the 
coimtry  to  do  honor  to  the  dead.  They 
were  in  full  regalia,  with  mourning  l)adges, 
and  carried  inverted  torches.  The  reli- 
gious   ceremonies    and    mystic  rites  of  the 


•anveilinci  a  parallel.  ^^^> 

Order  were  elal)urute  and  iiiij^rcssive.  The 
dirge  which  followed,  and  during  Avhich  the 
members  of  the  Order  formed  in  procession 
and  began  a  slow  march,  was  so  nnntterably 
and  profoundly  sad  that  I  could  not  keep 
back  the  tears.  A  little  sol)bing  voice 
directlj^  in  front  of  me  wailed  out  "Mamma! 
Mamma ! "  A  woman  stooped  down  and 
whispered,  "  Do  you  want  to  go  up  and  kiss 
Mamma  ^good-by'  before  they  take  her 
away  V  "  But  the  child  shrank  back,  afraid 
of  the  pomp  and  ghostly  magnificence  sur- 
rounding the  dead  form. 

Elodia  was  of  course  the  chief  figure  in 
the  procession,  and  she  bore  herself  with 
a  grave  and  solemn  dignity  in  keeping 
with  the  ceremonies.  The  sight  of  her  beau- 
tiful face,  Avith  its  subdued  but  lofty 
ex})ression,  was  moi-e  than  I  could  bear.  I 
leaned  forward  and  dropped  my  face  in  my 
hands,  and  let  the  sorrow-laden  requiem 
rack  my  soul  with  its  sweet  torture  as  it 
would. 

That  was  my  hist  day  in  Thursia. 

I  had  at  first  thought  of  taking  my  aer- 
oplane   along    with    me,    reflecting    that    I 


194  'Glnx'eUlng  a  parallel. 

might  better  begin  my  liomewnrd  flight  from 
some  momitiiin  top  in  Caskia;  but  Sever- 
nius  would  not  hear  of  that. 

"  IS^o  indeed !  "  said  lie,  "  yon  must  return 
to  us  again.  I  wish  to  get  ready  a  bndget 
for  you  to  carry  back  to  your  astronomers, 
which  I  think  will  be  of  vahie  to  them,  as  I 
shall  make  a  complete  map  of  the  heavens 
as  they  appear  to  us.  Then  we  shall  be 
eager  to  hear  about  yom*  visit.  And  besides, 
we  want  to  see  you  again  on  the  ground  of 
f riendshiji,  the  strongest  reason  of  all !  " 

"You  are  too  kind!  "I  responded  with 
much  feeling.  I  knew  that  he  was  as  sin- 
cere as  he  was  pohte.  This  was  at  the  last 
moment,  and  Elodia  was  present  to  bid  me 
"good-l)y."  She  seconded  her  brother's 
invitation, —  "  O,  3'es,  of  course  you  must 
come  back!  "  and  turned  the  whole  power  of 
her  beautiful  face  upon  me,  and  for  the  first 
time  gave  me  her  hand.  I  had  coveted  it  a 
liundred  times  as  if  lay  lissome  and  white  in 
her  lap.  I  clasped  it,  pahn  to  palm.  It  was 
as  smooth  as  satin,  and  not  moist, —  I  dislike 
a  moist  hand.  I  felt  that  ui)  to  that  moment 
I   had   always    undervalued   the    sense    of 


"Olnveiling  a  parallel.  195 

touch, —  it  was  the  finest  of  all  the  senses! 
1*^0  niusie,  no  work  of  art,  no  wondrous 
scene,  liad  ever  so  thrilled  me  and  set  my 
nerves  a-qniver,  as  did  the  delicate,  firm 
pressure  of  those  magic  fingers.  The 
remembrance  of  it  made  my  blood  tingle  as 
I  went  on  my  long  journey  from  Thursia 
to  Lunismar. 

It  was  a  long  journey  in  miles,  though 
not  in  time,  we  traveled  like  the  wind. 

Both  Clytia  and  Calypso  were  at  the  sta- 
tion to  meet  me,  with  their  two  children, 
Freya  and  Emydice.  I  learned  that  nearl}^ 
all  Caskians  are  named  after  the  planetoids 
or  other  heavenly  bodies, —  a  very  appropri- 
ate thing,  since  they  live  so  near  the  stars! 

My  heart  went  out  to  the  children  the 
moment  my  ej^es  fell  upon  their  faces. 

They  were  as  beautiful  as  Raphael's 
cherubs,  you  could  not  look  upon  them  with- 
out thrills  of  delight.  They  were  two  per- 
fect buds  of  the  highest  development 
humanity  has  ever  attained  to, —  so  far  as 
we  know.  I  felt  that  it  was  a  wonderful 
thing  to  know  that  in  these  lovely  forms 
there  lurked  no  gei-ms    of  evil,    over   their 


196  TUnveilinci  a  parallel. 

sweet  heads  there  hung  no  Adam's  curse! 
They  were  seated  in  a  pretty  pony  carriage, 
with  a  wliite  canopy  top  lined  with  blue 
silk.  Freya  held  the  lines.  It  appeared 
that  Eurydice  had  driven  down  and  he  was 
to  drive  back.  The  father  and  mother  w^ere 
on  foot.  They  explained  that  it  was  difficult 
to  drive  anything  Imt  the  little  carriage  up 
the  steep  path  to  their  home  on  the  hill- 
side, half  a  mile  distant. 

"Who  would  wish  for  any  other  means  of 
locomotion  than  nature  has  given  him,  in  a 
comitry  Avhere  the  buoyant  air  makes  walk- 
ing a  luxury !  "  I  cried,  stretching  my  legs 
and  filling  my  lungs,  with  an  unwonted 
sense  of  freedom  and  power. 

I  had  become  accustomed  to  the  atmos- 
phere of  Paleveria,  but  here  I  had  the  same 
sensations  I  had  experienced  wiien  I  first 
landed  there. 

"If  you  would  rather,  you  may  take  my 
place,  sir?"  said  the  not  much  more  than 
knee-high  Freya,  ready  to  relinquish  the 
lines.  I  felt  disposed  to  laugh,  but  not  so 
the  wise  parents. 

"  The  little  ponies  could  not    draw   our 


Tnnvclling  a  iparallel.  197 

friend   np    the   liill,  he    is    too    heav}^,"    ex- 
l)lained  (;Iytia. 

"  Thank  3X)n,  my  little  man,  all  llie  same!" 
I   added. 

It  was  midsummer  in  Paleveria,  ])iit  here 
I  ol)served  everytliing  had  the  newness  and 
deHghtful  freshness  of  spring-.  A  busy,  bus- 
tling, joyous,  tuneful  spring.  The  grass  was 
green  and  succulent ;  the  sap  was  in  the  trees 
and  their  bark  was  sleek  and  glossy,  their 
leaves  just  unrolled.  Of  the  wild  fruit  trees, 
every  branch  and  twig  was  loaded  with 
eager  buds  crowding  upon  each  other  as  the 
heads  of  children  crowd  at  a  cottage  window 
when  one  goes  by.  Every  thicket  was  full  of 
bird  life  and  music.  I  heard  the  roar  of  a 
waterfall  in  the  distance,  and  Calypso  told 
me  that  a  mighty  river,  the  Eudosa,  gath- 
ered from  a  hundred  mountain  streams,  was 
compressed  into  a  deep  gorge  or  canyon  and 
fell  in  a  succession  of  cataracts  just  below 
the  city,  and  finally  spread  out  into  a  lovely 
lake,  which  was  a  wonder  in  its  way,  being 
many  fathoms  deep  and  as  transparent  as 
the  atuios])here. 

AVe  paused  to  listen, —  the  children    also. 


198  *anvdlini5  a  parallel. 

"  How  loud  it  is  to-day,  Mamma,"  ex- 
claimed Freya.  His  mother  assented  and 
turned  to  me  ^vith  a  smile.  "  The  falls  of 
Eiidosa  constitute  a  large  part  of  our  life  up 
here,"  she  said;  "we  note  all  its  moods, 
which  are  many.  Sometimes  it  is  drowsy,  and 
purrs  and  murmurs ;  again  it  is  meriy,  and 
sings;  or  it  is  sublime,  and  rises  to  a  thun- 
derous roar.  xVlways  it  is  sound.  Do  you 
laiow,  my  ears  ached  with  the  silence  when 
I  was  down  in  Paleveria!  " 

I  have  said  Cl3tia's  eyes  were  black;  it 
was  not  an  opaque  blackness,  you  could  look 
through  them  doA\ni  into  her  soul.  I  lik- 
ened them  in  my  mind  to  the  waters  of  the 
Eudosa  which  Cal^qjso  had  just  described. 

Every  moment  something  new  attracted 
our  attention  and  the  brief  journey  was  full 
of  incident;  the  children  were  especially 
alive  to  the  small  happenings  al)out  us,  and 
I  never  before  took  such  an  interest  in  what 
I  should  have  called  insignificant  things. 
Sometimes  the  conversation  betAveen  my  two 
friends  and  myself  rose  above  the  under- 
standing of  the  little  ones,  but  they  were 
never   ignored, —  nor   were  they  obtmsive; 


•Clnvcillng  a  parallel.  199 

they  seemed  to  laioAV  just  where  to  fit  their 
little  questions  and  remarks  into  the  talk. 
It  was  quite  wonderful.  I  understood,  of 
course,  that  the  children  had  been  brought 
down  to  meet  me  in  order  that  I  might  make 
their  acquaintance  immediately  and  establish 
my  relations  with  them,  since  I  was  to  be 
for  some  time  a  member  of  the  household. 
They  had  their  small  interests  apart  from 
their  elders  —  carefully  guarded  by  their 
elders  —  as  children  should  have ;  but  when- 
ever they  were  permitted  to  be  with  us,  they 
were  of  us.  They  were  never  allowed  to 
feel  that  loneliness  in  a  crowd  which  is  the 
most  desolate  loneliness  in  the  world.  Cly- 
tia  especially  had  the  art  of  enveloping 
them  in  her  sympathy,  though  her  intellect- 
ual faculties  were  employed  elsewhere. 
And  how  they  loved  her!  I  have  seen 
nothing  like  it  upon  the  Earth. 

Perhaps  I  adapt  myself  with  luiusual 
readiness  to  new  environments,  and  assim- 
ilate more  easily  with  new  persons  than 
most  people  do.  I  had,  as  you  know,  left 
Paleveria  with  deep  reluctance,  under  com- 
pulsion of  my  will  —  moved   l)y   my   better 


200  *Clnvdling  a  parallel. 

jiulgment;  and  tliroug-lioiit  my  journey  I 
had  deliberately  steeped  myself  in  sweet 
and  bitter  memories  of  my  life  there,  to  the 
exclusion  of  much  that  might  have  been 
interesting  and  instructive  to  me  on  the 
way, —  a  foolish  and  childish  thing  to  have 
done.  And  now,  suddenly,  Paleveria 
droi)ped  from  me  like  a  garment.  Some 
moral  power  in  these  new  friends,  and  i)er- 
haps  in  this  city  of  Lunismar, —  a  230wer  I 
could  feel  but  could  not  define,- — raised  me 
to  a  different,  umnistakably  a  higher,  ])lane. 
I  felt  the  change  as  one  feels  the  change 
from  underground  to  the  npper  air. 

We  first  walked  a  little  way  through  the 
city,  which  quite  filled  the  valley  and  crept 
np  onto  the  hillsides,  here  and  there. 

Each  building  stood  alone,  Avith  a  little 
space  of  ground  around  it,  npon  which  grass 
and  flowers  and  shrubbery  grew,  and  often 
trees.  Each  such  si)ace  bore  evidence  that 
it  was  as  tenderly  and  scrupnlonsly  tended 
as  a  Japanese  garden. 

It  was  the  cleanest  city  I  ever  saw ;  there 
was  not  an  unsightly  place,  not  a  single 
darksome  alley  or  lurking  place  for  vice,   no 


TIlnvdHng  a  parallel.  201 

liuddliiui"  t()<2-ether  of  nii8cral)lc  tenements. 
I  remarked  Upon  this  and  Cal^^pso  explained: 

"Our  to\\qis  nsed  to  be  compact,  but  since 
electricity  has  annihilated  distance  we  have 
spread  ourselves  out.  AYe  have  plenty  of 
ground  for  our  population,  enough  to  give  a 
generous  slice  all  round,  Lunismar  really 
extends  through  three  valleys." 

Crystal  streams  trickled  down  from  the 
mountains  and  were  utilized  for  practical 
and  [esthetic  purposes.  Small  parks, 
exquisitely  pretty,  were  very  numerous,  and 
in  them  the  sparkling  water  was  made  to 
play  curious  pranks.  Each  of  these  spots 
was  an  ideal  resting  place,  and  I  saw  many 
elderly  people  enjoying  them, —  people 
whom  T  took  to  l)e  from  sixty  to  seventy 
years  of  age,  l)ut  who,  I  was  astonished  to 
learn,  Avere  all  upwards  of  a  hundred.  Per- 
fect health  and  longevity  are  among  the 
rewards  of  right  living  practiced  from  gen- 
eration to  generation.  The  forms  of  these 
old  people  were  erect  and  their  faces  were 
beautiful  in  intelligence  and  sweetness  of 
expression. 


202  llnvcilliiG  a  iparallel. 

I  remarked,  apropos  of  the  general  beauty 
and  elegance  of  the  buildings  we  passed: 

"  This  must  be  the  fine  quarter  of  Lunis- 
mar." 

"  IsTo,  not  especially,"  returned  Calypso, 
"  it  is  about  the  same  all  over." 

"Is  it  possible!  then  you  must  all  be 
rich  ?  "  said  I. 

"We  have  no  very  poor,"  he  re})lied, 
"though  of  course  some  have  larger  pos- 
sessions than  others.  We  have  tried,  sev- 
eral times  in  the  history  of  our  race,  to 
equalize  the  wealth  of  the  country,  but  the 
experiment  has  always  failed,  human 
nature  varies  so  much." 

"What,  even  here?"  I  asked. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  said  he. 

"Why,  I  understand  that  you  Caskians 
have  attained  to  a  most  perfect  state  of 
development  and  culture,  and  — "  I  hesitated 
and  he  smiled. 

"And  you  think  the  process  eliminates 
individual  traits?"  he  inquired. 

Clytia  laughingly  added: 

"I  hope,  sir,  you  did  not  expect  to  find  us 
all  exactly  alike,  that  would  be  too  tame !  " 


TUnveiling  a  parallel.  203 

"You  compliment  me  most  highly,"  said 
Calypso,  seri(msly,  "  but  we  must  not  per- 
mit you  to  suppose  that  we  regard  our 
'  development '  as  anywhere  near  perfect, 
In  fact,  the  farther  we  advance,  the  greater, 
and  the  grander,  appears  the  excellence  to 
Avhich  we  have  not  yet  attamed.  Though 
it  would  be  false  modesty  —  and  a  disre- 
spect to  our  ancestors  —  not  to  admit  that 
we  are  conscious  of  having  made  some  J^rog- 
ress,  as  a  race.  We  know  what  our  begin- 
nings were,  and  what  we  now  are." 

After  a  moment  he  went  on : 

"I  suppose  the  prmciple  of  differentia- 
tion, as  we  observe  it  in  plant  and  animal 
life,  is  the  same  in  all  life,  not  only  physical 
but  intellectual,  moral,  spiritual.  Cultiva- 
tion, though  it  softens  salient  traits  and 
peculiarities,  may  develop  infinite  A'ariety 
in  every  kind  and  species." 

I  understood  this  better  later  on,  after  I 
had  met  a  greater  number  of  people,  and 
after  my  perceptions  had  become  more  deli- 
cate and  acute, —  or  Avhen  a  Idnd  of  initia- 
tory experience  had  taught  me  how  to  see 
and  to  value  excellence. 


204  "ClnveUinG  a  parallel. 

A  few  years  ago  a  border  of  nasturtiums 
exhibited  no  more  than  a  single  color  tone, 
the  pumpkin  yellow;  and  a  bed  of  pansies 
resembled  a  patch  of  j^nrple  heather.  Ob- 
serve now  the  chromatic  variety  and  beauty 
produced  by  intelligent  horticulture  I  A 
group  of  commonjilace  people  —  moderately 
disciplined  by  culture  —  might  be  compared 
to  the  i^ansies  and  nasturtiums  of  our  early 
recollection,  and  a  group  of  these  highly 
refined  Caskians  to  the  delicious  flowers 
abloom  in  modern  gardens. 

We  crave  variety  in  people,  as  we  crave 
condiments  in  food.  For  me,  this  craving 
was  never  so  satisfied —  and  at  the  same 
time  so  thoroughly  stimulated  —  as  in  Cas- 
kian  society,  which  had  a  spiciness  of  flavor 
impossible  to  describe. 

Formality  was  disarmed  l)y  jierfect  breed- 
ing, there  was  nothing  that  you  could  call 
"  manner."  The  delicate  faculty  of  intu- 
ition produced  harmony.  I  never  knew  a 
single  instance  in  which  the  social  atmos- 
phere was  disagreeably  jarred, —  a  common 
enough  occm'rence  where  we  depend   upon 


■ClnveiUng  a  parallel.  205 

the  machinery  of  social  order  rather  than 
upon  the  vital  principle  of  good  conduct. 

I  inquired  of  Calypso,  as  we  walked  along", 
the  sources  of  the  people's  wealth.  He  re- 
plied that  the  mountains  were  full  of  it. 
There  were  minerals  and  precious  stones, 
and  metals  in  great  abundance ;  and  all  the 
ores  were  manufactured  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  mines  before  being  shipped  to  the 
lower  countries  and  exchanged  for  vege- 
table products. 

This  prompted  me  to  ask  the  familiar 
question : 

"  And  how  do  you  manage  the  lal^or 
problem?"  He  did  not  understand  me  initil 
after  I  had  explained  about  our  difficulties 
in  that  line.  And  then  he  informed  me  that 
most  of  the  people  who  worked  in  mines 
and  factories  had  vested  interests  in  them. 

"  Physical  labor,  however,"  he  added,  "  is 
reduced  to  the  mininuun;  machinery  has 
taken  the  place  of  muscle." 

"And  thrown  an  army  of  workers  out  of 
employment  and  the  means  of  living,  T  sup- 
pose?" 1  rejoined,  taking  it  for  granted  that 


206  "Clnreilino  a  parallel. 

the  small  Hliai'c-holders  had  been  squeezed 
out,  as  well  as  the  small  operators. 

"  O,  no,  indeed,"  he  returned,  in  surprise. 
"It  has  simply  given  them  more  leisure. 
Everybody  now  enjoys  the  luxury  of  spare 
time,  and  may  devote  his  energies  to  the  ser- 
vice of  other  than  merely  physical  needs." 
He  smiled  as  he  went  on,  "  This  labor  prob- 
lem the  Creator  gave  us  was  a  knotty  one, 
wasn't  it?  But  what  a  tremendous  satis- 
faction there  is  in  the  thought  —  and  in  the 
fact  —  that  we  have  solved  it." 

I  was  in  the  dark  now,  and  waited  for 
him  to  go  on. 

"  To  labor  incessantly,  to  strain  the 
muscles,  fret  the  mind,  and  weary  the  soul, 
and  to  shorten  the  life,  all  for  the  sake  of 
supplying  the  wants  of  the  body,  and  noth- 
ing more,  is,  I  think,  an  inconceivable  hard- 
ship. And  to  have  invoked  the  forces  of 
the  insensate  elements  and  laid  our  burdens 
upon  them,  is  a  glorious  triumph." 

"Yes,  if  all  men  are  profited  by  it,"  I 
returned  doubtfully. 

"  They  are,  of  course,"  said  he,  "  at  least 
with  us.      I  was  shocked   to   find  it  quite 


innrciluui  a  parallel.  207 

different  in  raleveri;i.  There,  it  seemed  to 
nie,  machinery  —  which  has  been  such  a 
boon  to  the  hiborers  here — has  been  utihzed 
simply  and  solely  to  increase  the  wealth  of 
the  rich.  I  saw  a  good  many  people  who 
looked  as  though  they  were  on  the  brink  of 
starvation." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  manage  it  other- 
wise," I  confessed. 

"It  belongs  to  the  history  of  past  genera- 
tions," he  replied.  "Perhaps  the  hardest 
struggle  our  progenitors  had  was  to  conquer 
the  lusts  of  the  flesh, —  of  which  the  greed 
of  wealth  is  doubtless  the  greatest.  They 
began  to  realize,  generations  ago,  that  Mai's 
was  rich  enough  to  maintain  all  his  childi-en 
in  comfort  and  even  luxiuy, —  that  none 
need  hunger,  or  tliirst,  or  go  naked  oi" 
houseless,  and  lliat  more  than  this  was 
vanity  and  vain-glory.  And  just  as  they, 
with  intense  assiduity,  sought  out  and  culti- 
vated nature's  resources  —  for  the  reduction 
of  labor  and  the  increase  of  wealth — so 
they  sought  out  and  cultivated  within  them- 
selves corresponding  resources,  those  lit  to 


208  llnvctUiui  a  Parallel. 

meet  the  new  era  of  material  i)rosperity; 
namely,  generosity  and  brotherly  love." 

"  Then  yon  really  and  trnly  practice  what 
you  jDreach ! "  said  I,  W' ith  scant  politeness, 
and  I  hastened  to  add,  "  Severnins  told  me 
that  you  recognize  the  trinity  in  human 
nature.  Well,  we  do,  too,  upon  the  Earth, 
but  the  Three  have  hardly  an  equal  chance ! 
We  preach  the  doctrine  considerably  more 
than  we  practice  it." 

"I  understand  that  3^ou  are  a  highly 
intellectual  people,"  remarked  Calypso, 
courteously. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  we  are,"  said  I;  "our 
achievements  in  that  line  are  nothing  to  be 
ashamed  of.  And,"  I  added,  remembering 
some  felicitous  sensations  of  my  own,  "there 
is  no  greater  delight  than  the  travail  of 
intellect  which  brings  forth  great  ideas." 

"Pardon  me!"  he  returned,  " the  travail 
of  soul  which  brings  forth  a  great  love  —  a 
love  ^dlling  to  share  equally  with  others  the 
fruits  of  intellectual  triumph  —  is,  to  my 
mind,  infinitely  greater." 

We  had  reached  the  terrace,  or  little 
plateau,  on  which  my  friends'  house  stood; 


TnnvcUtng  a  parallel.  209 

it  was  like  a  strip  of  g-rceii  velvet  for  color 
and  smoothness. 

The  house  was  built  of  rough  gray  stone 
which  showed  silver  glintings  in  the  snn. 
Here  and  there,  delicate  vines  clnng  to  the 
Avails.  There  was  a  carriage  porch  —  into 
which  the  children  drove — and  windows 
jutting  out  into  the  light,  and  many  veran- 
das and  little  balconies,  that  seemed  to  give 
the  phice  a  friendly  and  hos[)itable  air. 
Above  thei-e  was  a  spacious  observatory, 
in  which  was  mounted  a  very  fine  telescope 
that  must  have  cost  a  fortune, —  though  my 
friends  were  not  enormously  rich,  as  I  had 
learned  from  Severnius.  But  these  people 
do  not  regard  the  expenditure  of  even  very 
large  sums  of  money  for  the  means  of  the 
best  instruction  and  the  best  jdeasures 
as  extravagance,  if  no  one  suffei's  in  conse- 
quence. I  cannot  go  into  their  economic 
system  very  extensively  here,  but  I  may  say 
that  it  provides  primarily  that  all  shall  share 
bountifully  in  the  general  good;  and  after 
that,  individuals  may  gratify  their  respective 
tastes  —  or  rather,  satisfy  their  higher  needs; 


210  •Glnveilinti  a  ipavallcl. 

for  their  tastes  are  never  i'aneiriil,  but  always 
real —  as  they  can  afford. 

I  do  not  mean  that  this  is  a  written  law,  a 
formal  edict,  to  he  evaded  hy  such  cunning- 
devices  as  Ave  know  in  our  land,  or  at  best 
loosely  construed;  nor  is  it  a  mere  sentiment 
preached  from  pulpits  and  glorified  in  liter- 
ature,—  a  beautiful  but  inii)racticable  con- 
ception! It  is  purely  a  moral  law,  and 
being  such  it  is  a  vital  principle  in  each 
individual  consciousness. 

The  telescope  was  Calypso's  dearest  j^os- 
session,  but  I  never  doubted  his  willingness 
to  give  it  np,  if  there  should  come  a  time 
when  the  keeping  of  it  would  be  the  slight- 
est infringement  of  this  law.  I  may  add 
that  in  all  the  time  I  spent  in  Caskia,  I 
never  saw  a  man,  woman,  or  child,  but 
whose  delight  in  any  possession  would  have 
been  marred  by  the  knowledge  that  his,  or 
her,  gratification  meant  another's  bitter  dep- 
rivation. The  (juestion  between  Thou  and 
I  was  always  settled  in  favor  of  Thou. 
And  no  barriers  of  race,  nationality,  birth, 
or  position,  affected  this  nniversal  principle. 

I  made  a  discovery  in  relation  to  the  Cas- 


■dnveilino  a  iparallcl.  '211 

Mans  which  would  have  surprised  aud  dis- 
appoiuted  me  under  most  eireumstanees; 
they  had  no  imagination,  and  they  were  not 
given  to  emotional  excitation.  Their 
minds  touched  nothing-  Init  Avhat  was  real. 
But  mark  this:  Their  real  was  oiu*  highest 
ideal.  The  moral  world  was  to  them  a  real 
world;  the  spiritual  world  was  to  them  a 
real  world.  They  had  no  need  of  imagery. 
And  they  Avere  never  carried  away  by  floods 
of  feeling,  for  they  wei'e  always  up  to  their 
highest  level, —  I  mean  in  the  matter  of 
kindness  and  sympathy  and  love.  More- 
over, their  intellectual  perceptions  were  so 
cleai',  and  the  mysteries  of  nature  were  un- 
rolled before  their  understandinij:  in  such 
orderly  sequence,  that  although  their  in- 
crease of  knowledge  was  a  continuous 
source  of  delight,  it  never  came  in  shocks 
of  surpi'ise  or  excited  childish  wonderment. 
I  cannot  hope  to  give  you  more  than  a  faint 
conception  of  the  dignity  and  majesty  of  a 
people  wdiose  triple  nature  was  so  highly  and 
so  hai-moniously  developed.  One  pi'inciple 
governed  the  thi-ee:  Truth.  They  wei-e 
true   to    every  law  imder   which    they  had 


212  'mnrcilino  a  iparallcl. 

been  created  and  by  which  thoy  were  sus- 
tained. They  were  taught  from  infancy  — 
but  of  this  further  on.  I  w^ish  to  reintro- 
duce Ariadne  to  you  and  let  her  expkun 
some  of  the  wonders  of  their  teaching,  she 
being  herself  a  teacher. 

The  observatory  was  a  much  used  apart- 
ment, by  both  the  family  and  by  guests.  It 
was  a  library  also,  and  it  contained  mus- 
ical instruments.  A  balcony  encircled  it  on 
the  outside,  and  here  we  often  sat  of  even- 
ings, especially  if  the  sky  was  clear  and  the 
stars  and  moon  were  shining.  The  heavens 
as  seen  at  night  w^ere  as  familiar  to  Clytia 
and  Cal}^3SO,  and  even  to  the  children,  as  a 
friend's  face. 

It  w^as  pleasant  to  sit  out  upon  the  bal- 
cony even  on  moonless  nights  and  when  the 
stars  were  hidden,  and  look  down  upon  the 
city  all  brilliantly  alight,  and  listen  to 
the  unceasing  nnisic  of  the  Falls  of  Eudosa. 
I,  too,  soon  learned  his  many  "  moods." 

Back  of  the  house  there  rose  a  long  suc- 
cession of  hills,  ending  finally  in  snow- 
capped mountains,  the  highest  of  which 
was  called    the    Spear,  so    sharply    did    it 


"dnvdlinfl  a  iparallcl.  213 

thrust  its  licad  up  througli  the  clouds  into 
the  heavens. 

The  lower  hills  had  bceu  converted  into 
vineyards.  A  couple  of  men  were  fixing 
the  trellises,  and  Calypso  excused  himself 
to  his  wife  and  me  and  went  over  to  them. 
A  neatly  dressed  maid  came  out  of  the 
house  and  greeted  the  children,  who  had 
much  important  news  to  relate  concerning 
their  drive;  and  a  last  year's  bird-nest  to 
show  her,  Avhich  they  took  pains  to  explain 
Avas  quite  useless  to  the  birds,  who  were 
all  making  nice  new  nests.  The  sight 
of  the  maid, —  evidently  an  intelligent  and 
well-bred  girl, —  whose  face  beamed  affec- 
tionately upon  the  little  ones,  prompted  a 
question  from  me : 

"How  do  you  manage  about  your  ser- 
vants, I  mean  house  servants,"  I  asked ;  "  do 
you  have  people  here  who  are  willing  to  do 
menial  Avork?" 

Clytia  looked  iq)  at  me  "wnth  an  odd 
expression.  Her  answer,  coming  from  any 
one  less  sincere,  would  have  sounded  like 
cant. 

"We  do  not  reiiard  anv  work  as  mean.'' 


214  *Qlnvdl(ng  a  iParallcl. 

"  But  some  kinds  of  work  are  distasteful, 
to  say  the  least,"  I  insisted. 

"^ot  if  you  love  those  for  whom  you 
labor,"  she  returned.  "A  mother  does  not 
consider  any  sort  of  service  to  her  child 
degrading." 

"O,  I  know  that,"  said  I;  "that  is  simply 
natural  affection." 

"  But  natural  affection,  you  know,  is  only 
the  germ  of  love.  It  is  narrow,  —  only  a 
little  broader  than  selfishness." 

"  Well,  tell  me  how  it  applies  in  this  ques- 
tion of  service?"  I  asked.  "I  am  not  able 
to  comprehend  it  in  the  abstract." 

"We  do  not  require  people  to  do  any- 
thing for  us  which  we  would  not  do  for 
ourselves,  or  for  them,"  she  said.  "And 
then,  we  all  work.  AYe  believe  in  work;  it 
means  strength  to  the  body  and  relief  to 
the  mind.  ]^o  one  permits  himself  to  be 
served  by  another  for  the  unworthy  reason, 
openly  or  tacitly  confessed,  that  he  is  either 
too  proud,  or  too  indolent,  to  serve  himself." 

"Then  why  have  servants  at  all?"  I 
asked. 

"  My  husband  explained  to  you,"  she    re- 


innvdlinfi  a  iParallcl.  215 

turned,  "  that  our  people  are  not  all  equally 
rich ;  and  they  are  not  all  adapted  to  what 
you  would  call,  perhaps,  the  higher  grades 
of  ser\^ce.  You  see  the  little  maid  yonder 
with  the  children;  she  has  the  gifts  of  a 
teacher, —  our  teachers  are  very  carefully 
chosen,  and  as  carefully  instructed.  She 
has  been  placed  ^nth  me  for  our  mutual  ben- 
efit,—  I  could  not  intrust  my  little  ones  to 
the  care  of  a  mere  paid  nurse  Avho  thought 
only  of  her  wages,  ^or  could  she  work 
simply  for  wages.  The  money  considera- 
tion is  the  smallest  item  in  the  arrangement. 
My  husband  superintends  some  steel  works 
in  which  he  has  some  shares.  The  man  he 
is  talking  with  now  —  who  is  attending  to 
the  grape  vines  —  has  also  a  large  interest 
in  the  steel  works,  but  he  has  no  taste  or 
faculty  for  engaging  in  that  kind  of  busi- 
ness, lie  might  spend  his  whole  life  in 
idleness  if  he  chose,  or  in  mental  pursuits, 
for  he  is  a  very  scholarly  man,  but  he  loves 
the  kind  of  work  he  is  doing  now,  and  our 
vineyard  is  his  especial  pride.  IVIoreover," 
a  beautiful  smile  touched  her  face  as  she 
looked  up  at  the  two  men  on  the    hillside. 


21 G  Tnnveiling  a  parallel. 

'^  Fides  loves  my  Calypso,  they  are  soul 
friends ! " 

AVhen  I  became  more  familiar  ^Anth  the 
household,  I  found  that  the  same  relations 
existed  all  round;  mutual  pleasure,  mutual 
sympathy,  mutual  helpfulness.  First  there 
seemed  to  be  on  the  part  of  each  employe 
a  distinct  preference  and  liking  for  the 
kind  of  woi"k  he  or  she  had  undertaken  to 
do;  second,  a  fitness  and  careful  preparation 
for  the  work;  and  last,  the  love  of  doing 
for  those  who  gave  appreciation,  love,  and 
another  sort  of  service  or  assistance  in  re- 
turn.    I  heard  one  of  them  say  one  day: 

"I  ask  nothing  better  than  to  be  permitted 
to  cook  the  meals  for  these  dear  people ! " 

This  was  a  woman  who  wrote  monthly 
articles  on  chemistry  and  botany  for  one  of 
the  leading  scientific  journals.  She  was  a 
middle-aged  woman  and  immarried,  who  did 
not  wish  to  live  alone,  who  abhorred  "board- 
ing," and  who  had  found  just  such  a  com- 
fortable nest  in  Clytia's  home  as  suited  all 
her  needs  and  desires.  Of  course  she  did 
not  slave  in  the  kitchen  all  day  long,  and 
her  position  did  not  debar  her  from  the  best 


TDinvelltng  a  parallel.  217 

and  moHt  intcUig-ent  society,  nor  cut  her  off 
from  the  pleasure  and  privileges  that 
sweeten  life.  She  brought  her  scientific 
knowledge  to  the  preparation  of  the  food 
she  set  before  us,  and  took  as  much  pride  in 
the  results  of  her  skill  as  an  inventor  takes 
in  his  appliances.  And  such  wholesome, 
delicious,  well-cooked  dishes  I  have  never 
eaten  elsewhere.  Clytia  beUeved  in  intelli- 
gently prepared  food,  as  she  believed  in 
intelligent  instruction  for  her  children;  she 
would  have  thought  it  a  crime  to  set  an 
ignorant  person  over  her  kitchen.  And  this 
woman  of  whom  I  am  speaking  knew  that 
she  held  a  place  of  honor  and  trust,  and 
she  filled  it  not  only  Avith  dignity  but  lov- 
ingness.  She  had  some  younger  Avomen 
to  assist  her,  whom  she  was  insti'ucting  in 
the  science  and  the  art  of  cooking,  and 
who  would  by-and-by  take  responsible  posi- 
tions themselves.  These  women,  or  girls, 
assisted  also  in  the  housekeeping,  which  Avas 
the  most  perfect  system  in  point  of  cleanli- 
ness, order  and  beauty  that  it  is  possible  to 
conceive  of  in  a  home;  because  skill,  hon- 
esty and  conscientiousness  enter  into  every 


218  TUnvdlinG  a  parallel. 

detail  of  the  life  of  these  people.  The  body 
is  held  ill  honor,  and  its  needs  are  respected. 
Life  is  sacred,  and  physical  sins, — neglect 
or  infringement  of  the  laws  of  health, —  are 
classed  in  the  same  category  with  moral 
transgressions.  In  fact,  the  same  principles 
and  the  same  mathematical  rules  apply  in 
the  Three  Matures  of  Man, —  refined  of 
course  to  correspond  with  the  ascending 
scale  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  from  the 
physical  to  the  spiritual.  But  so  closely  are 
the  Three  allied  that  there  are  no  dividing 
lines, — there  is  no  point  where  the  Mind 
may  say,  "Here  my  responsil)ility  ends," 
or  where  the  Body  may  affirm, "  I  have 
only  myself  to  please."  Day  by  day  these 
truths  became  clear  to  me.  There  was 
nothing  particularly  new  in  anything  that  I 
heard, —  indeed  it  was  all  singularly  famil- 
iar, in  sound.  But  the  wonder  was,  that  the 
things  we  idealize,  and  theorize  about,  they 
accept  literally,  and  absorb  into  their  lives. 
They  have  made  living  facts  of  our  profound- 
est  philosophy  and  our  sublimest  poetr}^ 
Are  Ave  then  too  philosophical,  too  poetical, 
—  and  not  practical  ?     A  good  many  centu- 


■OnvdUno  a  parallel.  219 

rics  have  rolled  np  their  records  and  dropped 
them  into  eternity  since  we  were  given  the 
simple,  wonderful  lesson, "  Whatsoever  a  man 
sows  that  shall  he  also  reap," —  and  we  have 
not  learned  it  yet!  St.  Paul's  voice  rings 
through  the  Earth  from  age  to  age,  "AYork 
out  your  own  salvation,"  and  we  do 
not  comprehend.  These  people  have  never 
had  a  Christ  —  in  flesh  and  blood  —  but 
they  have  put  into  effect  every  precept  of 
our  Great  Teacher.  They  have  received 
the  message,  from  whence  I  know  not, — 
or  rather  b}^  what  means  I  know  not, — 
"A  new  commandment  I  give  unto  you, 
that  ye  love  one  another." 


Chapter  10. 

THE    MASTER. 

' '  I  spoke  as  I  saw. 
I  report,  as  a  man  may  report  God's  work  —  all's  Love, 
yet  all's  Law." — Browning. 

I  have  spoken  of  Ariadne,  and  promised 
to  re-introduce  her  to  you.  You  wdll  re- 
member her  as  the  graceful  girl  who  accom- 
panied Clytia  and  her  husband  to  Thursia. 
She  had  not  made  quite  so  strong  an  im- 
pression upon  me  as  had  the  elder  woman, 
perhaps  because  I  was  so  preoccupied  with, 
and  interested  in  watching  the  latter's 
meeting  with  Elodia.  Certainly  there  was 
nothing  in  the  young  woman  herself,  as  I 
speedily  ascertained,  to  justify  disparage- 
ment even  with  Clytia.  I  was  suriDrised  to 
find  that  she  was  a  member  of  our  channing 
household. 


TUnreiliim  a  parallel.  221 

She  was  an  heiress ;  but  she  taught  in  one 
of  the  city  schools,  side  by  side  with  men 
and  women  who  earned  their  Hving-  by 
teaching.  I  rather  deprecated  this  fact  in 
conversation  with  Clytia  one  day;  I  said 
that  it  was  hardly  fair  for  a  rich  woman  to 
come  in  and  usurp  a  place  which  rightfully 
belonged  to  some  one  who  needed  the  work 
as  a  means  of  support, —  alas!  that  Z should 
have  presumed  to  censure  anything  in  that 
Avonderful  country.  With  knoAvledge  came 
modesty. 

Clytia's  cheeks  crimsoned  with  indigna- 
tiou.  "Our  teachers  are  not  beneficiaries," 
she  replied;  "nor  do  we  regard  the  positions 
in  oin*  schools  —  the  teachers'  positions  —  as 
charities  to  be  dispensed  to  the  needy.  The 
profession  is  the  highest  and  most  honorable 
in  our  land,  and  only  those  who  are  fitted 
by  nature  and  pre]iai'ation  presume  to  aspire 
to  the  oiiice.  There  is  no  bar  against  those 
Avho  are  so  fitted, —  the  richest  and  the  most 
distinguished  stand  no  better,  and  no  poorer, 
chance  than  the  poorest  and  most  insig- 
nificant. AVe  must  have  the  best  material, 
wherever  it  can  be  found." 


909 


"dnveilinii  a  parallel. 


Wc  had  but  jnst  entered  the  house, 
Clytia  and  I,  wlien  Ariadne  g-Hded  down 
the  stah's  into  the  room  Avhere  we  sat,  and 
approached  me  with  the  charming  frankness 
and  luiaffectedness  of  manner  which  so 
agTeeal)ly  characterizes  tlie  manners  of  all 
these  people.  She  was  rather  tall,  and 
slight;  thongh  her  form  did  not  suggest 
frailty.  She  resembled  some  elegant  flower 
whose  nature  it  is  to  be  delicate  and  slender. 
She  seemed  even  to  sway  a  little,  and  undu- 
late, like  a  lily  on  its  stem. 

I  regarded  her  with  attention,  not  un- 
mixed with  curiosity, —  as  a  man  is  prone  to 
regard  a  young  lady  into  wdiose  acquaintance 
he  has  not  yet  made  inroads. 

My  chief  impression  al)out  her  was  that 
she  had  remarkable  eyes.  They  were  of  an 
indistinguishable,  dark  color,  large  horizon- 
tally l)ut  not  too  wide  open, —  eyes  that 
drew  yours  continuall}^,  without  your  being 
able  to  tell  whether  it  was  to  settle  the 
question  of  color,  or  to  find  out  the  secret 
of  their  fascination,  or  whether  it  was  simply 
that  they  appealed  to  your  artistic  sense  — 
as  being  something  finer  than  you  had  ever 


•ClnvcUing  a  parallel.  223 

seen  before.  They  were  heavily  fringed  at 
top  and  bottom,  and  so  were  in  shadow  ex- 
cept when  she  raised  them  toward  the  liglit. 
Her  complexion  was  pale,  her  hair  light  and 
fluffy;  her  brows  and  lashes  were  several 
shades  darker  than  the  hair.  Her  hands  were 
lovely.  Her  dress  was  of  course  Avhite,  or 
cream,  of  some  soft,  clinging'  material;  and 
she  wore  a  bunch  of  blue  flowers  in  her  licit, 
slightly  wilted. 

There  is  this  difference  in  women:  some 
produce  an  effect  simply,  and  others  make 
a  clear-cut,  cameo-like  impression  upon 
the  mind.  Ariadne  was  of  the  latter  sort. 
Whatever  she  appropi-iated,  though  but  a 
tiny  blossom,  seemed  immediately  to  pro- 
claim its  ownership  and  to  swear  its  alle- 
giance to  lier.  Fi'oiu  the  moment  I  first 
saw  her  there,  the  blue  flowers  in  her  belt 
gave  her,  in  my  mind,  the  supreme  title  to 
all  of  their  kind.  T  could  never  bear  to  see 
another  woman  wear  the  same  variety, — 
and  T  liked  them  best  when  they  were  a 
little  wilted!  Her  belongings  suggested 
herself  so  vividly  that  if  one  cauie  unexpect- 


224  ■mnvdlino  a  parallel. 

edly  upon  a  fan,  a  l)ook,  a  garment  of  Iuts, 
he  was  affected  as  by  a  presence. 

I  soon  understood  why  it  was  that  my  eyes 
sought  her  face  so  persistently,  drawn  liy  a 
power  infinitely  greater  than  the  mere  power 
of  beauty ;  it  was  due  to  the  law  of  moral 
gravitation, —  that  by  which  men  are  at- 
tracted to  a  leader,  through  intuitive  j^er- 
ception  of  a  quality  in  him  I'ound  which 
their  own  energies  may  nucleate.  AYe  all 
recognize  the  need  of  a  centre,  of  a  rallying- 
point, —  save  perhaps  the  few  eccentrics, 
detached  particles  who  have  lost  their  place 
in  the  general  order,  makers  of  chaos  and 
disturbers  of  peace. 

It  is  this  power  which  constitutes  one  of 
the  chief  qualifications  of  a  teacher  in 
Lunismar,  because  it  rests  u[)on  a  fact  uni- 
versally believed  in, —  spiritual  royalty;  an 
august  force  which  cannot  be  ignored,  and 
is  never  ridiculed  —  as  Gahleo  Avas  ridiculed, 
and  punished,  for  his  wisdom;  because  there 
ignorance  andpi'ejudice  do  not  exist,  and 
the  superstition  which  planted  the  martyr's 
stake  has  never  been  known. 

Ariadne  said  that  she  had  been  up   in  the 


■Qlnrelling  a  parallel.  225 

observatory,  and  that  there  were  indications 
of  an  a2:)proaching'  storm. 

"  I  hope  it  may  be  a  fine  one !  "  exclaimed 
Clytia. 

I  thoug-ht  this  rather  an  extraordinary 
remark — coming'  from  one  of  the  sex  whose 
formula  is  more  likely  to  be,  "  I  hope  it  will 
not  be  a  severe  one." 

At  that  moment  a  man  appeared  in  the 
doorway,  the  majesty  of  whose  presence  I 
certainly  felt  before  my  eyes  fell  upon  him. 
Or  it  might  have  been  the  reflection  I  saw 
in  the  countenances  of  my  two  companions, 
—  I  stood  with  my  back  to  the  door,  facing 
them, —  wdiicli  gave  me  the  curious,  awe- 
touched  sensation. 

I  tmned  round,  and  Clytia  immediately 
started  forward.  Ariadne  exclaimed  in  an 
undertone,  with  an  accent  of  peculiar  SANcet- 
ness, —  a  commingling  of  delight,  and  rev- 
erence, and  caressing  tenderness: 

^'Ah!  the  Master!" 

Clytia  took  him  by  the  hand  and  brought 
him  to  me,  where  I  stood  rooted  to  my 
place. 

"Father,    this    is    our    friend,"   she    said 


2-6  Tllnvdlino  a  parallel. 

simply,  without  fui'tlKT  coromony  of  intro- 
duction. It  was  enou^'h.  lie  had  come  on 
purpose  to  see  me,  and  therefore  he  knew 
who  I  was.  As  for  him —  one  does  not  ex- 
plain a  king!  The  title  by  which  Ariadne 
had  called  him  did  not  at  the  moment  raise 
an  inquiry  in  my  mind.  I  accepted  it  as  the 
natural  definition  of  the  man.  lie  was  a 
man  of  kingly  proportions,  with  eyes  from 
which  Clytia's  had  borrowed  their  limpid 
blackness.  Ilis  glance  had  a  wide  compre- 
siveness,  and  a  swift,  sure,  loving  insight. 

He  struck  me  as  a  man  used  to  moving 
among  multitudes,  with  his  head  above  all, 
but  his  hcai't  embracing  all. 

You  may  think  it  strange,  but  I  was  not 
abashed.  Perfect  love  casteth  out  fear; 
and  there  was  in  this  divine  countenance 
—  I  may  well  call  it  divine! — the  lambent 
light  of  a  love  so  kindly  and  so  tender, 
that  fear,  pride,  vanity,  egotism,  even  false 
modesty  —  our  j^et  hypocrisy  —  surrendered 
without  a  protest. 

I  think  I  talked  more  than  any  one  else, 
being  delicately  promjited  to  furnish  some 
account  of  the  world  to  which  I  belong,  and 


"Clnveilino  a  iparallcl.  227 

stimulated  l)y  the  ])rofoiiiid  interest  with 
wliieli  the  INIaster  attended  to  eveiy  Avord 
that  I  said.  ]>ut  I  received  an  equal 
amount  of  information  myself, —  usually  in 
response  to  the  questions  with  Avhich  I 
rounded  up  my  periods,  like  this:  We  do 
so,  and  so,  upon  the  Earth;  how  is  it  here? 
The  replies  threw  an  extraordinary  light 
upon  the  social  order  and  conditions  there. 

I  naturally  dwelt  upon  the  salient  char- 
acteristics of  our  people, —  I  mean,  of  course, 
the  American  people.  I  spoke  of  our  enor- 
mous gi'asp  of  the  commercial  principle;  of 
our  mani[)ulation  of  political  and  even 
social  forces  to  g-reat  financial  ends;  of  our 
easy  acquisition  of  fortunes;  of  our  tre- 
mendous push  and  energy,  directed  to  the 
accumulation  of  wealth.  And  of  our  enthu- 
siasms, and  institutions;  our  religions  and 
their  antagonisms,  and  of  the  many  other 
things  in  which  we  take  pride. 

And  I  learned  that  in  Caskia  then;  is  no 
such  thing  as  speculative  enterprise.  All 
business  has  an  actual  basis  most  discourag- 
ing to  the  adventurous  spirit  in  search  of  sud- 
den  riches.     There   is    no    monetary    skill 


228  "Clnvdlinij  a  parallel. 

worthy  the  dignified  appellation  of  finaneial 
management, —  and  no  nse  for  that  partic- 
idar  development  of  the  talent  of  ingenuity. 
All  the  systems  involving  the  use  of  money 
conduct  their  affairs  upon  the  simjilest  arith- 
metical rules  in  their  simplest  form ;  addition, 
subtraction,  multiplication,  division.  There 
are  banks,  of  com*se,  for  the  mutual  con- 
venience of  all,  but  there  are  no  magnificent 
delusions  called  "stocks;"  no  boards  of 
trade,  no  bulls  and  bears,  no  "  corners,"  no 
mobilizing  of  capital  for  any  questionable 
purposes;  no  gambling  houses;  no  pitfalls 
for  umvary  feet;  and  no  mad  fever  of  greed 
and  scheming  coursing  through  the  veins  of 
men  and  dri\dng  them  to  insanity  and  self- 
destruction.  More  than  all,  there  are  no 
fictitious  values  put  upon  fads  and  fancies 
of  the  hour,  —  nor  even  upon  Avorks  of  art. 
The  Caskians  are  not  easily  deceived.  An 
impostor  is  impossible.  Because  the  people 
are  instructed  in  the  quality  of  things  intel- 
lectual, and  moral,  and  spiritual,  as  well  as 
in  things  physical.  They  are  as  sure  of  the 
knoAvableness  of  art,  as  they  are — and  as 
we  are  —  of   the   knowableness   of   science. 


Tnnvcillng  a  parallel.  229 

Art  is  but  refined  seienee,  niul  the  principles 
are  the  nanie  in  both,  but  more  dehcately, 
and  also  more  comprehensively,  interj^reted 
in  the  former  than  in  the  latter. 

One  thing"  more:  there  are  no  would-be 
impostors.  The  law  operates  no  visil)le 
machinery  against  such  crimes,  should  there 
be  any.  The  Master  explained  it  to  me  in 
this  way: 

"  The  Law  is  established  in  each  individual 
conscience,  and  rests  securely  upon  self- 
respect." 

"  Great  heavens ! "  I  cried,  as  the  wonder 
of  it  broke  npon  my  nnderstanding,  "  and 
how  many  millions  of  years  has  it  taken 
your  race  to  attain  to  this  pei'fection?" 

"It  is  not  perfection, "  he  replied,  "  it  only 
approximates  j^erfection;  we  are  yet  in  the 
beginning." 

"Well,  by  the  grace  of  God,  you  are  on 
the  right  way!"  said  I.  "I  am  familiar 
enough  with  the  doctrines  you  li\'e  by,  to 
know  that  it  is  the  right  way ;  they  are  the 
same  that  we  have  been  taught,  theoretically, 
for  centuries,  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  ]iever 
believed  they  could  be  carried  out  literally, 


230  'ClnvcUinG  a  parallel. 

as  yon  ajopear  to  cany  them  out.  We  are 
tolerably  honest,  as  the  word  goes,  but 
when  honesty  shades  oif  mto  these  hair- 
splitting theories,  why  —  we  leave  it  to  the 
preachers,  and  —  women." 

"Then  30U  realh^  have  some  among  you 
who  belie\'e  in  the  higher  truths?"  the  Mas- 
ter said,  and  his  broAvs  went  up  a  little  in 
token  of  relief.  —  My  picture  of  Earth-life 
must  have  seemed  a  terrible  one  to  him ! 

"  O,  yes,  indeed,"  said  I,  taking  my  cue 
from  this.  And  I  proceeded  to  give  some 
character  sketches  of  the  grand  men  and 
women  of  Earth  whose  lives  have  been  one 
long,  heroic  struggle  for  truth,  and  to  whom 
a  terril)le  death  has  often  been  the  crowning 
triumph  of  their  faith.  I  related  to  him 
briefly  the  history  of  America  from  its  dis- 
covery four  hundred  years  ago;  and  told 
him  about  the  splendid  material  pi-osperity, 
—  the  enormous  wealth,  the  extraoi'dinary 
inventions,  the  great  population,  the  unprec- 
edented free-school  system,  and  the  prog- 
ress in  general  education  and  culture,  —  of 
a  country  which  had  its  birth  but  3esterday 
in  a  deadly  struggle  for   freedom   of   con- 


•Clnvefling  a  parallel.  231 

science;  and  of  our  later,  crueller  war  for 
freedom  that  was  not  for  ourselves  but  for  a 
despised  race.  I  described  the  prodigious 
waves  of  jniblic  and  private  genei'osity  that 
have  swept  millions  of  money  into  l)urned 
cities  for  their  rebuilding,  and  tons  of  food 
into  famine-stricken  lands  for  the  starviuir. 

I  told  him  of  the  coming  together  in  fel- 
lowship of  purpose,  of  the  great  masses,  to 
face  a  common  dangei-,  or  to  meet  a  com- 
mon necessity;  and  of  the  moral  and  intel- 
lectual giants  who  in  outward  appearance 
and  in  the  seeming  of  their  daily  lives  are 
not  unlike  their  fellows,  but  to  whom  all 
eyes  turn  for  help  and  strength  in  the  hour 
of  peril.  But  I  did  not  at  that  time  under- 
take any  explanation  of  our  religious  creeds, 
for  it  somehow  seemed  to  me  that  these 
would  not  count  for  much  witli  a  ])eoi)le  who 
expressed  their  theology  solely  by  putting 
into  practice  the  things  they  believed.  I  had 
the  thought  in  mind  though,  and  determined 
to  exi)loit  it  later  on.  As  I  have  said  before, 
the  Master  listened  with  rapt  attention,  and 
when  I  had  fmished,  he  exclaimed, 

"I  am  filled  with  amazement!  a  country 


232  -ClnveilinG  a  parallel. 

5^et  so  young,  so  far  athanccd  toward 
Truth!" 

He  gave  himself  up  to  contempLition  of 
tlie  ])icture  I  had  drawn,  and  in  the  depths 
of  his  eyes  I  seemed  to  see  an  inspired 
propheey  of  my  country's  future  grandeur. 

Presently  he  rose  and  went  to  a  window, 
and,  with  uplifted  face,  murmured  in  accents 
of  the  sublimest  reverence  that  have  ever 
touched  my  nnderstanding,  "O,  God,  All- 
Powerful!" 

And  a  wonderful  thing  happened:  the 
invocation  was  responded  to  by  a  voice  that 
came  to  each  of  our  souls  as  in  a  flame  of 
fire,  "  Here  am  I."  The  velocity  of  worlds 
is  not  so  s^^^ft  as  Avas  our  transition  from 
the  human  to  the  divine. 

But  it  was  not  an  unusual  thing,  this 
su])i'eme  triumph  of  the  spirit;  it  is  what 
these  people  call  "divine  Avorship,"" — a  ser- 
vice which  is  never  perfunctory,  Avhich  is 
not  ruled  by  time  or  place.  One  may  wor- 
ship alone,  or  two  or  three,  or  a  multitude, 
it  matters  not  to  God,  who  only  asks  to  be 
worshiped   in  spirit   and  in  truth, — be  the 


■Qlnveiling  a  iparallel.  233 

time  Sal)bath  or  mid-week,  the  place  temple, 
or  field,  or  closet. 

A  little  later  I  remarked  to  the  Master, — 
wishing  to  have  a  point  cleared  up, — 

"You  say  there  are  no  fictitious  values 
put  upon  w^orks  of  art;  how  do  you  mean?" 

He  replied, "  Inasmuch  as  truth  is  always 
greater  than  human  achievement  —  which  at 
best  may  only  apj^roximate  the  truth, —  the 
value  of  a  work  of  art  should  be  determined 
by  its  merit  alone,  and  not  by  the  artist's 
reputation,  or  any  other  remote  influence, — 
of  course  I  do  not  include  particular  objects 
consecrated  by  association  or  by  time.  But 
suppose  a  man  paints  a  great  picture,  for 
which  he  i-ecieves  a  great  price,  and  there- 
after uses  tlie  fame  he  has  w^on  as  speculat- 
ing capital  to  enrich  himself, —  I  beg  the 
pardon  of  eveiy  artist  for  setting  up  the 
hideous  hypothesis!  —  But  to  complete  it: 
the  moment  a  man  does  that,  he  loses  his 
self-respect,  which  is  about  as  bad  as  any- 
thing that  can  happen  to  him;  it  is  moral 
suicide.  And  he  has  done  a  grievous  wrong 
to  art  by  lowering  the  high  standard  he 
himself   hel])ed  to  raise.     But  his  crime  is 


234  TUnvcilfng  a  iParallcl. 

no  greater  than  that  of  the  name-worshipers, 
who,  ignorantly,  or  insolently,  set  up  false 
standards  and  scorn  the  real  test  of  values. 
However,  these  important  matters  are  not 
left  entirely  to  individual  consciences;  art- 
ists, and  so-called  art-critics,  are  not  the 
only  judges  of  ai't.  We  have  no  mysterious 
sanctuaries  for  a  privileged  few;  all  may 
enter, —  all  are  indeed  made  to  enter,  not  by 
violence,  but  by  the  simple,  natural  means 
employed  in  all  teaching.  All  will  not  hold 
the  brush,  or  the  pen,  or  the  chisel;  but 
from  their  earliest  infancy  our  children  are 
carefully  taught  to  recognize  the  forms  of 
truth  in  all  art;  the  eye  was  made  to  see, 
the  ear  to  hear,  the  mind  to  understand." 

The  visit  was  at  an  end.  When  he  left 
us  it  was  as  though  the  sun  had  passed 
mider  a  cloud. 

Clytia  went  out  with  him,  her  arm  lov- 
ingly linked  in  his ;  and  I  turned  to  Ariadne. 
"Tell  me,"I  said,  "why  is  he  called  Master? 
Is  it  a  formal  title,  or  was  it  bestowed  in 
recognition  of  the  quality  of  the  man?" 

"  Both,"  she  answered.  "  No  man  receives 
the  title  who  has  not  the  Equality.'     But  it  is 


•QlnvdUng  a  iparallel.  235 

in  one  way  perfnnctoiy;  it  is  llie  disting-uish- 
ing  title  of  a  teacher  of  tlie  highest  i-ank." 

"  And  wliat  are  teachers  of  the  higliest 
rank,  presidents  of  colleges?"  I  asked. 

"O,  no,"  she  rei)lied  with  a  smile,  "they 
are  not  necessarily  teachers  of  schools  —  old 
and  yonng  alike  are  their  pupils.  They  ai-e 
those  who  have  advanced  the  farthest  in  all 
the  paths  of  knowledge,  especially  the  moral 
and  the  spiritual." 

"I  understand,"  said  I;  'Hhey  are  your 
priests,  ministers,  pastors, — your  Doctors  of 
Divinity." 

"Perhaps,"  she  returned,  douhtfull}-;  our 
tei-niinology  Avas  not  always  clear  to  those 
people. 

"  Usually,"  she  went  on,  "they  begin  Avilh 
teaching  in  the  schools, —  as  a  kind  of 
apprenticeship.  But,  naturally,  they  rise; 
there  is  that  same  quality  in  them  which 
forces  great  poets  and  ])ainters  to  high 
positions  in  their  respective  fields." 

"Then  they  rank  with  geniuses!"  T  ex- 
claimed, and  the  m^'stery  of  the  man  in 
whose  gTand  company  I  had  spent  the  past 
hour  was  solved. 


iiSC  TUnveilinG  a  parallel. 

Ariadne  looked  at  me  as  though  surprised 
that  I  shoidd  have  been  ignorant  of  so  nat- 
ural and  patent  a  faet. 

"  Excuse  me !  ■ '  said  I,  "  but  it  is  not  always 
the  ease  with  us;  any  man  may  set  up  for  a 
religious  teacher  Avho  chooses,  Avith  or  with- 
out preparation, —  just  as  au}^  one  may  set 
up  for  a  poet,  or  a  painter,  or  a  composer  of 
oratorio." 

"Genius  must  be  universal  on  your  planet 
then,"  she  returned  innocentl}.  I  suppose 
I  might  have  let  it  pass,  there  was  nobody 
to  contradict  any  impressions  I  might  be 
])leased  to  convey!  but  there  is  something 
in  the  atmosphere  of  Lunismar  which  com- 
pels the  truth,  good  or  bad. 

"No,"  said  I,  "they  do  it  by  grace  of  their 
imexampled  self -trust,  —  a  qualit}^  much 
encouraged  among  us,  —  and  because  we  do 
not  legislate  upon  such  matters.  The  boast 
of  our  country  is  liberty,  and  in  some  respects 
we  fail  to  comprehend  the  glorious  possession. 
Too  often  we  mistake  lawlessness  for  liberty. 
The  fine  arts  are  our  playthings,  and  each 
one  follows  his  own  fancy,  like  children  with 
toys." 


■dnvcilino  a  iparallcl.  237 

*^Follows-his-owii-faney,''  she  repeated, 
as  one  repeats  a  strange  phrase,  the  meaning- 
of  which  is  obscure. 

"  By  the  Avay,"  I  said,  ■'^  you  must  be  rather 
arbitrary  here.  Is  a  man  Hable  to  arrest  or 
condign  punishment,  if  he  happens  to 
burlesque  any  of  the  higher  calhngs  under 
the  impression  that  he  is  a  genius?  " 

She  laughed,  and  I  added,  "I  assure  you 
that  this  is  not  an  uncommon  occurrence  with 
us." 

"  It  would  be  impossible  here,"  she  replied^ 
"  because  no  one  could  so  mistake  himself, 
though  it  seems  egotistical  for  one  of  us  to 
say  so!  but" — a  curious  expression  touched 
her  face,  a  questioning,  doubting,  jnizzled 
look — "we  are  speaking  honestly,  are  we 
not?" 

I  wondered  if  I  had  betrayed  my  Ameri- 
can characteristic  of  hyperbole,  and  I  smiled 
as  I  answered  her: 

"  My  countrymen  are  at  my  mercy,  I  know ; 
but  had  I  a  thousand  grudges  against  them, 
I  beg  3'ou  to  believe  that  I  am  not  so  base 
as  to  take  advantage  of  my  unique  oppor- 
tunity to  do  them  harm!     We  are  a  young 


238  TnnvdUnfl  a  iparallcl. 

people,  as  I  said  awhile  ago,  a  very  young 
people;  and  in  many  respeets  we  have  the 
innocent  audacity  of  babes.  Yes,""  I  added, 
"  I  have  told  you  the  truth,  —  but  not  all  of 
it;  Earth,  too,  is  pinnacled  with  great  names, 
—  of  Masters,  like  yours,  and  poets,  and 
painters,  and  scientists,  and  inventors.  Even 
in  the  darkest  ages  there  have  been  these 
points  of  illumination.  What  I  chiefly  won- 
der at  here,  is  the  universality  of  intelligence, 
of  understanding.  You  are  a  teacher  of 
children,  pray  tell  me  how  you  teach.  How 
do  you  get  such  wonderful  results?  I  can 
comprehend  —  a  little  —  ^  what 'you  people 
are,  I  Avish  to  know  the  Hiow,'  the  Svhy'." 
"All  our  teaching,"  she  said,  "embraces 
the  three-fold  nature.  The  i)hysical  comes 
first  of  course,  for  you  cannot  reach  the 
higher  faculties  through  barriers  of  physical 
pain  and  sickness,  hunger  and  cold.  The 
child  must  have  a  good  body,  and  to  this 
end  he  is  taught  the  laws  that  govern  his 
body,  through  careful  and  attentive  observ- 
ance of  cause  and  effect.  And  almost  im- 
mediately, he  begins  to  have  fascinating 
glimpses  of  similar  laws  operating  upon  a 


■ClnvcUino  a  Iparallel.  239 

hig-hcr  than  the  physical  phme.  Chilclivn 
have  hoiindless  curiosity,  you  know,  and  this 
makes  the  teacher's  work  easy  and  delight- 
ful,—  for  we  all  love  to  tell  a  piece  of  new^s! 
Through  this  faculty,  the  desire  to  know, 
you  can  lead  a  child  in  whatever  paths  you 
choose.  You  can  almost  make  him  what 
you  choose.  A  little  experience  teaches  a 
child  that  every  act  brings  consequences, 
good  or  bad;  but  he  need  not  get  all  his 
knowledge  by  experience,  that  is  too  costly. 
The  reasoning  faculty  must  be  aroused,  and 
then  the  conscience, —  which  is  to  the  soul 
what  the  sensatory  nerves  are  to  the  body. 
But  the  conscience  is  a  latent  faculty,  and 
here  comes  in  the  teacher's  most  delicate 
and  important  work.  Conscience  is  quite 
dependent  upon  the  intellect;  we  must  know 
what  is  right  and  wdiat  is  wrong,  otherwise 
conscience  nuist  stagger  blindly." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  I  interrupted,  ^'  the  con- 
sciences of  some  very  good  people  in  oui- 
world  have  burned  witches  at  the  stake." 

"  Horrible ! "  she  said  with  a  shudder. 

She  continued:  "This,  then,  is  the  basis. 
We  try,  through  that  simple  law  of  cause 


240  xanveilins  a  parallel. 

and  effect,  which  no  power  can  set  aside,  to 
supply  each  child  with  a  safe,  sure  motive 
for  conduct  that  will  serve  him  through  life, 
as  well  in  his  secret  thought  as  in  outward 
act.  ]N^o  one  with  this  principle  well- 
grounded  in  him  will  ever  seek  to  throw 
the  blame  of  his  misdeeds  upon  another. 
We  teach  the  relative  value  of  repentance; 
that  though  it  cannot  avert  or  annul  the 
effects  of  wrong-doing,  it  may  serve  to 
prevent  rejDCtition  of  the  wrong." 

"Do  you  punish  offenders?  "  I  asked. 

She  sndled.  "  Punishment  for  error  is 
like  treating  symptoms  instead  of  the  disease 
which  produced  them,  is  it  not? — relief  for 
the  present,  but  no  help  for  the  future. 
Punishment,  and  even  criticism,  are  dan- 
gerous weapons,  to  be  used,  if  at  all,  with  a 
tact  and  skill  that  make  one  tremble  to 
think  of!  They  are  too  apt  to  destroy  free- 
dom of  intercourse  between  teacher  and 
pupil.  Unjust  criticism,  especially,  shuts 
the  teacher  from  an  opportunity  to  widen 
the  pupiFs  knowledge.  Too  often  our  crit- 
icisms are  barriei-s  which  Ave  throw  about 
ourselves,  shutting  out  affection  and  confi- 


"ClnvciUni?  a  parallel.  241 

dence;  and  then  we  wonder  why  friends 
and  family  are  sealed  books  to  ns !  " 

"That  is  a  fact,"  I  assented,  heartily,  '^md 
no  one  can  keep  to  his  highest  level  if  he  is 
surrounded  by  an  atmos])here  of  coldness 
and  censure.  Even  Christ,  our  Great 
Teacher,  affirmed  that  he  could  not  do  his 
Avork  in  certain  localities  because  of  prevail- 
ing unbelief." 

"  There  is  one  thing  which  it  is  difficult 
to  learn,"  went  on  Ariadne,  "  discrimination, 
the  fitness  of  things.  I  may  not  do  that 
which  is  proper  for  another  to  do, —  why? 
Because  in  each  individual  consciousness  is 
a  special  and  peculiar  law  of  destiny  upon 
which  rests  the  burden  of  personal  respon- 
sibihty.  It  is  this  law  of  the  individual  that 
makes  it  an  effrontery  for  any  one  to  consti- 
tute himself  the  chancellor  of  another's  con- 
science, or  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  any  act 
which  does  not  fall  under  the  condemnation 
of  the  connnon  law.  Tt  is  given  to  each  of 
us  to  create  a  world, —  within  ourselves  and 
round  al)out  us, —  each  unlike  all  the  others, 
though  c-onforming  to  the  universal  prin- 
ciples of  right,  as  poets,  however  original. 


242  'Unveilin^i  a  parallel. 

conform  to  the  universal  principles  of  lan- 
gnage.  We  have  choice  —  let  me  give  3^ou 
a  paradox!  —  every  one  may  have  first  choice 
of  inexhanstible  material  in  infinite  variety. 
Bnt  how  to  choose!  " 
I  qnoted  Milton's  lines : 

"He  that  has  light  withni  his  own  clear  breast, 
May  sit  in  the  center  and  enjoy  bright  day  ; 
But  he  that  hides  a  dark  soul  and  foul  thoughts, 
Benighted  walks  under  the  mid-day  sun  ; 
Himself  is  his  own  dungeon." 

She  thanked  me  with  a  fine  smile. 

Clytia  had  come  in  a  few  moments  before, 
l)ut  her  entrance  had  been  snch  that  it  had 
cansed  no  disturbing  vibrations  in  the  cur- 
rent of  sympathetic  understanding  upon 
Avhich  Ariadne  and  myself  Avere  launched. 

]Vow,  however,  we  came  ashoi*e  as  it 
were,  and  she  greeted  us  as  returned  voy- 
agers love  to  be  greeted,  with  cordial 
welcome. 

She  informed  us  that  dinner  was  ready, 
and  I  was  alarmed  lest  we  might  have 
delayed  that  important  fimction. 

The  children  had  disappeared  for  the  day, 


TUnvctling  a  parallel.  243 

having  already  had  their  dinner  in  the  nur- 
sery nnder  the  supervision  of  their  mother. 

Calyi^so  had  invited  in  his  friend  Fides. 
He  was  a  man  of  powerful  frame,  and 
strong,  fine  physiononi}  ;  with  a  mind  as 
virile  as  the  former,  and  as  clear-cut  as  the 
latter.  The  woman  who  had  created  the 
dinner  —  I  do  not  know  of  a  hetter  word  — 
also  sat  at  tahle  with  ns,  and  contributed 
many  a  gem  to  the  thought  of  the  hour. 
Thought  may  seem  an  odd  word  to  use  in 
connection  with  a  dinner  conversation, — 
unless  it  is  a  "toast"  dinner!  but  even  in 
their  gayest  and  lightest  moods  these  people 
are  never  thoughtless.  Their  minds  instead 
of  being  lumbering  machinery  requiring 
much  force  and  preparation  t(^  put  in  motion, 
are  set  upon  the  daintiest  and  most  delicate 
wheels.  Their  mental  equipment  corre- 
sponds with  the  astonishing  mechanical 
contrivances  for  overcoming  friction  in  the 
physical  world.  And  this  exquisite  machin- 
ery is  applied  in  exactly  the  same  ways, — 
sometimes  for  utility,  and  sometimes  for 
sim])lc  enjoyment. 

Ariadne's    prediction    had    been    correct, 


244  llnvciliiHi  a  parallel. 

the  storin-lving  was  mustering-  his  forces 
round  the  mountain-tops,  and  the  Eudosa 
was  answering  the  challenge  from  the 
valley. 

After  dinner  we  went  up  into  the  observa- 
tory, and  from  thence  passed  out  onto  the 
balcony,  thrilled  by  the  same  sense  of 
delightful  expectancy  you  see  in  the  unen- 
nuied  eyes  of  Youth,  waiting  for  the  curtain 
to  go  up  at  a  play.  All  save  myself  had 
of  coui'se  seen  thunder-storms  in  Lunismar, 
but  none  were  hlase.  There  was  eagerness 
in  every  face. 

We  took  our  station  at  a  point  which 
gave  us  the  best  view  of  the  mountains,  and 
saAV  the  lightning  cut  their  cloud-enwrapped 
sides  with  flaming  swords,  and  thrust  gleam- 
ing spears  down  into  the  darkling  Aalley, 
as  if  in  furious  spite  at  the  blackness  which 
had  gathered  everywhere.  For  the  sun  had 
sunk  behind  a  w^all  as  dense  as  night  and 
left  the  world  to  its  fate.  Before  the  rain 
began  to  fall  there  was  an  appalling  still- 
ness, Avhich  even  the  angry  mutterings  of 
the  Eudosa  could  not  overcome.  And  then, 
as  though  the  heavens  had    marshaled    all 


mnvefUnQ  a  iparallel.  245 

their  strength  for  one  tremendous  assault, 
the  thunder  broke  forth.  I  have  httle 
physical  timidity,  but  the  shock  struck  me 
into  a  pose  as  rigid  as  death. 

The  others  were  only  profoundly  im- 
pressed, spiritually  alive  to  the  majesty  of 
the  performance. 

That  first  explosion  was  but  the  prelude 
to  the  might}^  piece  played  l^efore  us,  around 
us,  at  our  feet,  and  overhead. 

Earth  has  been  spared  the  awfulness  — 
(without  destruction)  —  and  has  missed  the 
glory  of  such  a  storm  as  this. 

But  the  grandest  part  was  yet  to  come. 
The  rain  lasted  perhaps  tAVcnty  minutes,  and 
then  a  slight  rent  was  made  in  the  thick 
and  sombre  curtain  that  covered  the  face  of 
the  heavens,  and  a  single  long  shaft  of  light 
touched  the  frozen  point  of  the  Spear  and 
turned  its  crystal  and  its  snow  to  gold. 
The  rest  of  the  mountain  was  still  swathed 
in  cloud.  A  moment  more,  and  a  superb 
rainbow,  and  another,  and  yet  another,  were 
flung  Hpon  the  shoulder  of  the  Spear,  below 
the  glittering  finger.  The  rent  in  the  cur- 
tain grew  wider,  and  beyond,  all  the  splen- 


24G  innvefllng  a  parallel. 

dors  of  colors  were  blazoned  iq^on  t]io 
shimmering  draperies  that  closed  about 
and  slowly  vanished  Avith  the  sun. 

We  sat  in  silence  for  a  little  time.  I  hap- 
pened to  be  near  Fides,  and  I  presently 
turned  to  him  and  said : 

"That  was  a  most  extraordinary  mani- 
festation of  the  Almighty's  power!" 

He  looked  at  me  but  did  not  rejDly. 

Ariadne,  who  had  heai'd  my  remark,  ex- 
claimed laughingly : 

"Fides  thinks  the  02:)ening  of  a  flower  is 
a  for  more  wonderful  manifestation  than  the 
stirring  up  of  the  elements!" 

In  the  midst  of  the  storm  I  had  dis- 
covered the  Master  standing  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  balcony,  and  beside  him  a  tall, 
slender  woman  with  thick,  white  hair,  whom 
I  rightly  took  to  be  his  wife.  I  was  pre- 
sented to  her  shortly,  and  the  mental  com- 
ment I  made  at  the  moment,  I  never 
afterward  reversed, —  "She is  worthy  to  be 
the  Master's  wife!" 

Although  the  rain  had  ceased,  the  sky 
was  a  blank,  as  night  settled  upon  the 
world.     ]N^ot  a  star  shone.     But  it  was  cool 


■Qlnvcflino  a  Iparallcl.  247 

and  pleasant,  and  we  sat  and  talked  for  a 
conple  of  hours.  Suddenly,  a  band  of 
music  on  the  terrace  below  silenced  our 
voices.  It  was  most  peculiar  music:  noAv 
it  was  tone-pictures  thrown  upon  the  dark 
background  of  shadoAVs;  and  now  it  was  a 
dance  of  sprites;  and  now  a  whispered  con- 
fidence in  the  ear.  It  made  no  attempt  to 
arouse  the  emotions,  to  produce  either  sad- 
ness or  exaltation.  It  was  a  mere  frolic  of 
music.  Wlien  it  was  over,  I  went  down 
stairs,  with  the  others,  humming  an  inaud- 
ible tune,  as  though  I  had  been  to  the 
opera. 


Cbaptcr  11. 

A   COMPARISON. 

"He  wlio  rests  on  what  he  is,  has  a  destiny  above 
destiny,  and  can  make  mouths  at  fortune."  — Emerson. 

"  "Work  out  your  own  salvation."  —  St.  Paul. 

I  had  a  feeling,  when  I  retired  to  my  room 
that  night,  as  if  years  lay  betAveen  me  and 
the  portion  of  my  life  which  I  had  spent  in 
Paleveria.  But  across  the  Avide  gnlf  my  soul 
embraced  Severnius.  All  that  was  beautiful, 
and  lovable,  and  nol)le  in  that  far-off  country 
centered  in  him,  as  light  centres  in  a  star. 

But  of  Elodia  I  could  not  think  without 
pain.  I  even  felt  a  kind  of  helpless  rage 
mingling  with  the  pain,  —  remembering  that 
it  was  simply  the  brutality  of  the  social  sys- 
tem under  which  she  had  been  reared,  that 
had  stamped  so   hideous   a   brand   upon   a 

24S 


TUnvcilino  a  parallel.  249 

character  so  fair.  I  contrasted  her  in  my 
mind  with  the  women  asleep  in  the  rooms 
abont  me,  whose  thoughts  were  as  pure  as 
the  thoughts  of  a  child.  Had  she  been  born 
here,  I  reflected,  she  would  have  been  like 
Clytia,  like  Ariadne.  And  oh!  the  pity  of 
it,  that  she  had  not ! 

I  was  restless,  wakeful,  miserable,  thinking 
of  her;  remembering  her  wit,  her  intelli- 
gence, her  power;  remembering  how  charm- 
ing she  was,  how  magnetic,  and  alas!  how 
faulty! 

She  gave  delight  to  all  about  her,  and 
touched  all  life  with  color.  But  she  was 
like  a  magnificent  bouquet  culled  from  the 
gardens  of  wisdom  and  beauty;  a  thing  of 
but  temporary  value,  whose  fragrance  must 
soon  be  scattered,  whose  glory  must  soon 
pass  away. 

Ariadne  was  the  white  and  slender  lily, 
slowly  unfolding  petal  after  petal  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  law  of  its  own  inner  growth. 
Should  the  blossom  be  torn  asunder  its  per- 
fmne  would  rise  as  incense  about  its  de- 
stroyer, and  from  the  life  hidden  at  its  root 


250  "GlnvcUino  a  parallel. 

would  come  foi'tli  more  perfect  blossoms 
and  more  delicate  fragrance. 

I  had  arrived  at  this  estimate  of  her 
character  by  a  process  more  unerring  and 
far  swifter  than  reason.  You  might  call  it 
spiritual  telegraphy.  The  thought  of  her  not 
only  restored  but  immeasurably  increased 
my  faith  in  woman;  and  I  fell  asleep  at  last 
soothed  and  comforted. 

I  awoke  in  the  morning  to  the  sound  of 
singing.  It  was  Ariadne's  voice,  and  she  was 
touching  the  strings  of  a  harp.  All  Cas- 
kians  sing,  and  all  are  taught  to  play  upon  at 
least  one  musical  instrument.  Every  house- 
hold is  an  orchestra. 

Ariadne's  voice  w^as  exceptionally  fine  — 
where  all  voices  were  excellent.  Its  quality 
was  singularly  bird-like ;  sometimes  it  was 
the  joyous  note  of  the  lark,  and  again  it  was 
the  tenderly  sweet,  and  passionately  sad, 
dropping-song  of  the  mocking-bird. 

"When  I  looked  out  of  my  window,  the  sun 
was  just  silvering  the  point  of  the  Spear,  and 
lioht  wreaths  of  mist  were  lifting  from  the 
valleys.     I  saw  the  Master,   staff  in  hand. 


"Glnveilino  a  iParallel.  251 

going  lip  toAvard  the  moiintain.s,  and  Fides 
was  coming  across  the  hills. 

I  had  Avondered,  when  I  saw  the  Master 
and  his  wife  on  the  balcony  the  night  be- 
fore, how  they  came  to  be  there  at  such 
an  horn'  on  such  a  night.  I  took  the  first 
ojiportunity  to  find  out.  The  only  w^ay  to 
find  out  about  people's  affairs  in  Caskia,  is 
by  asking  questions,  or,  by  obsen'^ation — 
which  takes  longer.  They  speak  with  their 
lives  instead  of  their  tongues,  concerning 
so  many  things  that  other  people  are  wordy 
about.  They  ai-e  quite  devoid  of  theones. 
But  they  are  charmingly  willing  to  impai-t 
what  one  wishes  to  know. 

I  learned  that  Clytia's  jDarents  lived  within 
a  stone's  throw  of  her  house  on  one  side,  and 
Calypso's  grandparents  at  al)Out  the  same 
distance  on  the  other.  And  I  also  learned 
that  it  was  an  arrangement  universally 
practiced;  the  clustering  together  of  fami- 
lies, in  order  that  the  young  might  always 
be  near  at  hand  to  support,  and  protect,  and 
to  smooth  the  pathway  of  the  old.  Ceilain 
savage  races  u])()n  the  Eai-tli  aljundon  tlic 
aged  to  starvation  and  death;  certain  other 


252  Tnnveilinfl  a  parallel. 

races,  not  savage,  abandon  them  to  a  loneli- 
ness that  is  only  less  cruel.  But  these 
extraordinarily  just  people  repay  to  the 
helplessness  of  age,  the  tenderness  and 
care,  the  loving  sympathy,  which  they 
themselves  received  in  the  helplessness  of 
infancy. 

The  grandparents  happened  to  be  away 
from  home,  and  I  did  not  meet  them  for 
some   days. 

On  that  first  morning  we  had  Clytia's 
parents  to  breakfast.  Immediately  after 
breakfast  the  circle  broke  up.  It  was 
Clytia's  morning  to  visit  and  assist  in  the 
school  which  her  little  ones  attended;  Ari- 
adne started  off  to  her  work,  Avith  a  fresh 
cluster  of  the  delicious  blue  flowers  in  her 
belt;  and  I  had  the  choice  of  visiting  the 
steel-works  with  Calypso,  or  taking  a  trip 
to  Lake  Eudosa,  on  foot,  Avith  the  Master. 
I  could  hardly  conceal  the  delight  Avith  A\iiich 
I  decided  in  fiiA'or  of  the  latter.  We  set  off 
at  once,  and  Avhat  a  AA^alk  it  AAas!  A  little 
Avay  through  the  city,  and  then  across  a  strip 
of  lush  green  meadoAV,  starred  Avith  daisies, 
thence  into  sweet-smelling  Avoods,  and  then 


XHnvefKng  a  parallel.  253 

down,  down,  down,  along  llic  rocky  edge  of 
the  canyon,  i)ast  the  deafening  waterfalls  to 
the  wonderful  Lake! 

We  passed,  on  onr  way  through  the  city, 
a  large,  fine  structure  which,  upon  inquiry, 
I  found  to  be  the  place  where  the  Master 
"taught''  on  the  Sabbath  day. 

"Do  you  wish  to  look  in?  "  he  asked,  and 
we  turned  back  and  entered.  The  interior 
Avas  beautiful  and  vast,  capacious  enough 
to  seat  several  thousand  people;  and  every 
Sunday  it  was  filled. 

I  thought  it  a  good  opportunity  for  find- 
ing out  something  about  the  rcHgion  of 
this  people,  and  I  began  by  asking: 

"Are  there  any  divisions  in  your  Church, 
—  different  denominations,  I  mean?" 

lie  seemed  unable  to  comprehend  me,  and 
I  was  obliged  to  enter  into  an  explanation, 
which  I  made  as  simple  as  possible,  of 
course,  relative  to  the  curse  of  Adam  and 
the  plan  of  redemption.  In  order  that  he 
might  understand  the  importance  attaching 
to  our  creeds,  I  told  him  of  the  fierce,  san- 
guinary struggles  of  past  ages,  and  the 
grave  controversies  of  modern  times,  ])cr- 


254  TllnvcUinfl  a  iParallel. 

taining  to  certain  dogmas  and  tenets, —  as 
to  whether  they  were  essential,  or  non- 
essential to  salvation. 

"Salvation  from  what?"  he  asked. 

"Wlw,  from  sin/' 

"  But  how?  We  know  only  one  way  to  be 
saved  from  sin." 

"And  what  is  that?"  I  inqnired. 

"  :N'()t  to  sin." 

"  But  that  is  impossible !  "  I  rejoined,  feel- 
ing that  he  was  trifling  with  the  subject. 
Though  that  Avas  unlike  him. 

"Yes,  it  is  impossible,"  he  replied,  gravely. 
"  God  did  not  make  us  perfect.  lie  left  us 
something  to  do  for  ourselves." 

"That  is  heretical,"  said  I.  "Don't  you 
believe  in  the  Fall  of  Man?" 

"^o,  I  think  I  believe  in  the  Rise  of 
Man,"  he    answered,    smiling. 

"O,  I  keep  forgetting,"  I  exclaimed, 
"that  I  am  on  another  planet!" 

"  And  that  this  planet  has  different  rela- 
tions with  God  from  Avhat  your  planet  has?" 
returned  he.  "I  cannot  think  so,  sir;  it  is 
altogether  a  new  idea  to  me,  and  —  pardon 
mc! — an  illogical  one.     We  belong  to  the 


"dnveillng  a  (Parallel.  '^55 

same  system,  and  why  should  not  the  people 
of  Mars  have  the  sentence  for  sin  revoked, 
as  well  as  the  people  of  Earth?  Why 
should  not  we  have  been  provided  with  an 
intercessor?  But  tell  me,  is  it  really  so?  — 
do  you  upon  the  Earth  not  sufier  the  conse- 
quences of  your  acts?" 

"AYhy,  certainly  we  do,"  said  I;  "while 
we  live.  The  plan  of  salvation  has  refer- 
ence to  the  life  after  death." 

lie  dropped  his  eyes  to  the  ground. 

"You  believe  in  that  life,  do  you  not?  "  I 
asked. 

"Believe  in  it!  " — he  looked  up,  amazed. 
"  All  life  is  eternal ;  as  long  as  God  lives,  we 
shall  live." 

A  little  later  he  said: 

"You  spoke  of  the  fall  of  man, —  what  did 
you  mean  ?  " 

"That  Man  was  created  a  perfect  being, 
but  through  sin  became  imperfect,  so  that 
God  could  not  take  him  back  to  Himself, — 
save  by  redemption.'' 

"And  God  sent  His  Only  Son  to  the  Eartli, 
you  sa}'',  to  redeem  your  race  from  the  con- 
sequences of  their  own  acts?" 


256  TUnveilinfl  a  iparallel. 

"So  we  believe,"  said  1. 

After  another  brief  silence,  he  remarked: 

"Man  did  not  begin  his  life  upon  tliis 
planet  in  perfection/' 

At  this  moment  we  passed  a  beautiful 
garden,  in  which  there  was  an  infinite  pro- 
fusion of  flowers  in  infinite  variety. 

"Look  at  those  roses!"  he  exclaimed; 
"God  planted  the  species,  a  crude  and 
simple  plant,  and  turned  it  over  to  man  to 
do  what  he  might  with  it;  and  in  the  same 
way  he  placed  man  himself  here,  —  to  perfect 
himself  if  he  would.  I  am  not  jealous  of 
God,  nor  envioiis  of  you ;  but  just  why  He 
should  have  arranged  to  spare  you  all  this 
labor,  and  commanded  us  to  work  out  our 
own  salvation,  I  cannot  comprehend." 

It  struck  me  as  a  remarkal)le  coincidence 
that  he  should  have  used  the  very  words  of 
one  of  onr  own  greatest  logicians. 

A  longer  silence  followed.  The  Master 
walked  with  his  head  inclined,  in  the  attitude 
of  profound  thought.  At  last  he  drew  a 
deep  breath  and  looked  up,  relaxing  his 
brows. 

"It  may  be  prodigiously  presumptuous," 


■Clnveilino  a  parallel.  2o7 

he  said,  "  but  I  ain  inclined  to  think  there 
has  been  a  mistake  somewhere." 

"How,  a  mistake?"  I  asked. 

He  paid  no  heed  to  the  question,  but  said : 
"Tell  me  the  story, — tell  me  the  exact 
words,  if  you  can,  of  this  Great  Teacher 
whom  you  believe  to  be  the  Son  of  God?" 

I  gave  a  brief  outline  of  the  Saviour's  life 
and  death,  and  it  was  a  gratification  to  me 
—  because  it  seemed,  in  some  sort,  an 
acknowledgment,  or  concession  to  my  inter- 
pretation,—  to  see  that  he  was  profoundly 
affected. 

"Oh ! "  he  cried,  —  his  hands  were  clenched 
and  his  body  writhed  as  with  the  actual  suf- 
ferings of  the  Man  of  Sorrows, — "that  a 
race  of  men  should  have  been  brought 
through  such  aAvful  tribulation  to  see  God ! 
AYhy  could  they  not  accept  the  truth  from 
his  lips?" 

"Because  they  would  not.  They  kept 
crying  ^Give  us  a  sign,'  and  he  gave  himself 
to  death." 

I  grouped  together  as  many  of  the  ^vords 
of  Christ  as  I  could  recall,  and  1  was  sm- 
prised,  not  only  that  his  memory  kept  its 


258  "anveiling  a  parallel. 

grasp  on  them  all,  but  that  he  was  able  to 
see  at  once  their  innermost  meaning.  It 
was  as  if  he  dissolved  them  in  the  wonderfnl 
alembic  of  his  understanding,  and  instantly 
restored  them  in  crystals  of  pure  truth, 
divested  alike  of  mysticism  and  remote  sig- 
nificance. He  took  them  up,  one  by  one, 
and  held  them  to  the  light,  as  one  holds 
precious  gems.  He  knew  them,  recognized 
them,  and  appraised  them  with  the  delight, 
and  comprehensiveness,  and  the  critical 
judgment  of  a  connoisseur  of  jewels. 

"  You  beUeve  that  Christ  came  into  your 
world,"  he  said,  "that  you  ^ might  have  life.' 
That  is,  he  came  to  teach  you  that  the  life 
of  the  soul,  and  not  the  body,  is  the  real  life. 
He  died  Uhat  you  might  live,'  but  it  was 
not  the  mere  fact  of  his  death  that  assured 
your  life.  He  was  willing  to  give  up  his  life 
in  pledge  of  the  truth  of  what  he  taught, 
that  you  might  believe  that  truth,  and  act 
upon  that  belief,  and  so  gain  life.  He  taught 
only  the  truth, — his  soul  was  a  fountain  of 
truth.  Hence,  when  he  said,  Suffer  the  little 
children  to  come  unto  me,  it  was  as  though 
he  said,  Teach  yom-  cliildren  the  truths  I  have 


TUnvdlin^i  a  iparallcl.  259 

taught  you.  And  when  he  cried  in  the 
tenderney.s  of  his  great  and  yearning  love, 
Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest,  he 
meant,  —  oh !  you  cannot  doubt  it,  my  friend, 
—  he  meant.  Come,  give  up  your  strifes,  and 
hatreds,  your  greeds,  and  vanities,  and  sel- 
fishness, and  the  endless  weariness  of  your 
pomps  and  shows;  come  to  me  and  learn 
how  to  live,  and  where  to  find  peace,  and 
contentment.  ^  A  new  conmiandment  I  give 
unto  you,  that  ye  love  one  another.'  This 
was  the  ^easy  yoke,'  and  the  Hight  burden,' 
which  your  Christ  offered  to  you  in  place  of 
the  t^Tanny  of  sin.  'Whatsoever  ye  would 
that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to 
them.'  There  is  nothing  finer  than  that, — 
there  is  no  law  above  that !  AYe  Caskians 
have  been  trying  to  work  u])on  that  principle 
for  thousands  of  years.  It  is  all  that  there 
is  of  religion,  save  the  spiritual  perception 
of  abstract  truths  which  we  may  conceive  of, 
more  or  less  clearly,  as  attributes  of  God. 
Your  Great  Teacher  explained  to  you  that 
God  is  a  spirit,  and  should  be  worshiped  in 
spirit  and  in  truth.     Hence  we  may  worship 


260  "Glnveilino  a  ipavallcl. 

Ilim  where  and  when  we  will.  AYorship  is 
not  a  ceremony,  but  profound  contemplation 
of  the  infinite  wisdom,  the  infinite  power, 
and  the  infinite  love  of  God.  The  outdoor 
world, — here,  where  we  stand  now,  with  the 
marvelous  sky  above  us,  the  clouds,  the  sun ; 
this  mighty  cataract  before  us;  and  all  the 
teeming  life,  the  beauty,  the  fragrance,  the 
song, — is  the  best  place  of  all.  I  pity  the 
man  who  lacks  the  facidty  of  worship!  it 
means  that  though  he  may  have  eyes  he  sees 
not,  and  ears  he  hears  not." 

"Do  you  believe  in  temples  of  worship?" 
I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  I  believe  in  them ;  for 
though  walls  and  stained  windows  shut  out 
the  physical  glories  of  the  world,  they  do 
not  blind  the  eyes  of  the  spirit.  And  if 
there  is  one  in  the  pulpit  who  has  absorbed 
enough  of  the  attributes  of  God  into  his  soul 
to  stand  as  an  interpreter  to  the  people,  it  is 
better  than  waiting  outside.  Then,  too, 
there  is  grandeur  in  the  coming  together  of 
a  multitude  to  worship)  in  oneness  of  spii-it. 
And  all  things  are  better  when  shared  with 
others.     I  believe  that  art  should  bring  its 


•GlnveilfnQ  a  iparallcl.  261 

best  treasures  to  adorn  the  temples  of  wor- 
ship, and  that  music  shoukl  voice  this 
supreme  adoration.  But  in  this  matter,  we 
should  be  careful  not  to  limit  God  in  point 
of  locality.  What  does  the  saying  mean, 
^I  asked  for  bread,  and  ye  gave  me  a  stone?' 
I  think  it  might  mean,  for  one  thing,  'I 
asked  where  to  find  God,  and  you  pointed  to 
a  building.'  The  finite  mind  is  prone  to 
worship  its  own  creations  of  God.  There 
are  ignorant  races  upon  this  jilanet, —  per- 
haps also  upon  yours, —  who  dimly  recog- 
nize Deity  in  this  way;  they  bring  the  best 
they  have  of  skill  in  handiwork,  to  the  mak- 
ing of  a  pitiful  image  to  represent  God;  and 
then,  forgetting  the  motive,  they  bow  down 
to  the  image.  We  call  that  idolatry.  But 
it  is  hard  even  for  the  enlightened  to  avoid 
this  sin." 

lie  paused  a  moment  and  then  went  on: 
"I  cannot  comprehend  the  importance  you 
seem  to  place  upon  the  forms  and  symbols, 
noi-  in  what  way  they  relate  to  religion,  but 
they  may  have  some  tempoi-aiy  value,  I  can 
hardl}'  judge  of  that.  Ba[)tism,  you  say,  is 
a  token  and  a  symbol,  l)ut  do  a  people  so  far 


2('>2  'ClnveiUng  a  parallel. 

advanced  in  intelligence  and  perception, 
Ktill  reqnire  tokens  and  symbols?  And  can 
you  not,  even  yet,  sejDarate  the  spiritual 
meaning  of  Christ's  words  from  their  literal 
meaning?  You  worship  the  man  —  the 
God,  if  you  will, —  instead  of  that  for  which 
he  stood.  He  himself  was  a  symbol,  he 
stood  for  the  things  he  wished  to  teach. 
•^I  am  the  truth,'  ^I  am  the  life.'  Do  you  not 
see  that  he  meant,  ^I  am  the  exponent  of 
truth,  I  teach  you  how  to  live;  hearken  unto 
me.'  In  those  days  in  which  he  lived, 
perhaps,  language  was  still  Avord-pictures, 
and  the  people  whom  he  taught  could  not 
grasp  the  abstract,  hence  he  used  the  more 
forcible  style,  the  concrete.  ITc  could  not 
have  made  this  clearei",  than  in  those 
remarkable  words,  ^Inasmuch  as  ye  have 
done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these,  my 
brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me.'" 

"I  know,"  I  replied,  as  he  paused  for  some 
response  from  me;  "my  intellect  accepts 
your  interpretation  of  these  things,  but  this 
symbolic  religion  of  ours  is  ingrained  in  our 
very    consciences,    so  that   neglect   of  the 


"ClnvdlinG  a  iparallcl.  2G3 

outward  forms  of  Christianity  seems  almost 
worse  than  actual  sin." 

"  And  it  will  continue  to  be  so,"  he  said, 
"until  you  learn  to  practice  the  truth  for 
truth's  sake, —  until  you  love  your  neighbor 
—  not  only  because  Christ  commanded  it, 
but  because  the  principle  of  love  is  in- 
grained in  your  consciences.'  As  for  belong- 
ing to  a  church,  I  can  only  conceive  of 
that  in  the  social  sense,  for  every  soul  that 
aspires  upward  belongs  to  Christ's  church 
universal.  They  are  the  lambs  of  his  flock, 
the  objects  of  his  tenderest  care.  But  I  can 
see  how  a  great  number  of  religious  socie- 
ties, or  organizations,  are  j^ossible,  as  corre- 
sponding with  the  requirements  of  different 
groups  of  people." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  glad  of  this  admission, 
"and  these  societies  are  all  aiming  at  the 
same  thing  that  you  teach, — the  brotherhood 
of  man.  They  clothe  the  poor,  they  look  after 
the  sick,  they  send  missionaries  to  the 
heathen,  they  preach  morality  and  temper- 
ance,—  all,  in  His  Name,  because,  to  tell  the 
truth,  they  cannot  conceive  of  any  virtue 
disassociated  from  the  man,  Jesus.     Jesus 


264  "anvcilinG  a  parallel. 

is  the  great  leader  of  the  spiritual  forces 
marshaled  under  the  banners  of  truth  upon 
the  Earth.  In  all  their  good  works,  which 
are  so  great  and  so  many,  good  christians 
give  Christ  the  glory,  because,  but  for  him, 
they  would  not  have  had  the  Truth,  the 
Life, —  the  world  was  so  dark,  so  ignorant. 
All  the  ancient  civilizations  upon  the  Earth, 
—  and  some  of  them  were  magnificent! — 
have  i:)erished,  because  they  did  not  possess 
this  truth  and  this  spiritual  life  which  Christ 
taught.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  knoAvl- 
edge,  but  not  love ;  there  was  a  great  deal 
of  philosophy,  but  it  was  cold.  There  was 
ni}  sticism,  but  it  did  not  satisfy.  Do  you 
wonder,  sir,  that  a  world  should  love  the 
man  who  brought  love  into  that  woi-ld, — 
who  brought  peace,  good- will,  to  men?" 

"JS"o,  no,"  said  the  Master,  "I  do  not 
wonder.  It  is  grand,  sublime!  And  he 
gave  his  body  to  be  destroyed  by  his  per- 
secutors, in  order  to  prove  to  the  world  that 
there  is  a  life  higher  than  the  physical,  and 
indestructible, —  and  that  physical  death  has 
no  other  agony  than  ])hysical  pain.  Ah,  I 
see,  I  understand,  and  I  am  not  sui'prised 


"GlnveiKng  a  parallel.  265 

that  you  call  this  man  your  redeemer!  I 
think,  my  friend,"  he  added,  "that  you  have 
now  a  civilization  upon  the  Earth,  which 
will  not  perish!  " 

After  a  moment,  he  remarked,  turning  to 
me  with  a  smile,  "We  arc  not  so  far  apart 
as  Avc  thought  we  Avere,  when  we  first  started 
out,  are  we?" 

"I^o,"  said  T,  "  the  only  wonder  to  me  is, 
that  you  should  have  been  in  possession, 
from  the  beginning,  of  the  same  truths  that 
were  revealed  to  us  only  a  few  centuries 
ago,  through,  as  we  have  been  taught  to 
believe,  special  Divine  Favor." 

"Say,  rather.  Infinite  Divine  Love,"  he 
returned;  "  then  Ave  shall  indeed  stand  upon 
the  same  plane,  all  alike,  children   of  God." 

As  Ave  continued  our  Avalk,  his  mind 
contimied  to  dAA'^ell  upon  the  teachings  of 
Christ,  and  he  songht  to  make  clear  to  me 
one  thing  after  another. 

"Pray  Avithout  ceasing,"  he  repeated,  re- 
flectively. "  Well,  noAV,  it  Avould  be  impos- 
sible to  take  that  literally;  the  literal  mean- 
ing of  prayer  is  A'crbal  petition.  Tlie  real 
meaning  is,  the  sincere  desire  of  the  soul. 


266  TUnveilinfl  a  iparallel. 

You  are  commanded  to  pray  in  secret,  and 
God  will  reward  yoii  openly.  Put  the  two 
together  and  you  have  this:  Desire  con- 
stantly, within  your  secret  soul,  to  learn  and 
to  practice  the  truth ;  and  your  open  reward 
shall  be  the  countless  blessings  which  are 
attracted  to  the  perfect  life,  the  inner  life. 
■^Ask  whatsoever  you  will,  in  my  name,  and 
it  shall  be  granted  you.'  That  is,  ^Ask  in 
the  name  of  truth  and  love.'  Shall  you 
pray  for  a  personal  blessing  or  favor  which 
might  mean  disaster  or  injury  to  another? 
Prayer  is  the  desire  and  eflbrt  of  the  soul 
to  keep  in  harmony  with  God's  great  laws 
of  the  universe." 

As  it  had  been  in  Thursia,  so  it  was  here ; 
people  came  to  see  me  from  all  parts, 
and  there  were  some  remarkable  companies 
in  Clytia's  parlors !  Usually  they  were  spon- 
taneous gatherings,  evening  parties  being 
often  made  u\)  with  little  or  no  premedita- 
tion. There  was  music  always,  in  great 
variety,  and  of  the  most  delightful  and 
elevated  character, —  singing,  and  many 
kinds  of  bands.    And  sometimes  there  was 


IHnvelUng  a  parallel.  267 

dancing, —  not  of  the  kind  which  awakened 
in  De  Quincey's  soul,  "  the  very  grandest 
form  of  passionate  sadness," — but  of  a  kind 
that  made  me  wish  I  had  been  the  inventor 
of  the  phrase,  "  poetry  of  motion,"  so  that  I 
could  have  used  it  here,  fresh  and  unhack- 
neyed. In  all,  there  was  no  more  volup- 
tuousness than  in  the  frolic  of  children. 
Conversation  might  —  and  often  was  —  as 
light  as  the  dance  of  butterflies,  but  it  was 
liable  at  any  moment  to  rise,  upon  a  hint, 
or  a  suggestion,  to  the  most  sublimated 
regions  of  thought, —  for  these  people  do  not 
leave  their  minds  at  home  when  they  go 
into  society.  And  here,  in  society,  I  saw 
the  workings  of  the  principle  of  brotherly 
love,  in  a  strikingly  beautiful  aspect.  There 
was  no  disposition  on  the  part  of  any  one  to 
outdo  another;  rather  there  seemed  to  be  a 
general  conspiracy  to  make  each  one  rise  to 
his  best.  The  spirit  of  criticism  was  absent, 
and  the  spirit  of  petty  jealousy.  The 
women  without  exception  were  dressed 
with  exquisite  taste,  because  this  is  a  part 
of  their  culture.  And  every  woman  was 
beautiful,   for   loving   eyes    approved    her; 


2C8  innveUfng  a  parallel. 

and  every  man  was  noble,  for  no  one 
doubted  him. 

If  the  sky  was  clear,  a  portion  of  each 
evening  was  spent  in  the  observatory,  or  out 
upon  the  balcony,  as  the  company  chose, 
and  the  great  telescope  was  always  in  requi- 
sition, and  always  pointed  to  the  Earth! — 
if  the  Earth  was  in  sight. 

The  last  evening  I  spent  in  Lunismar  was 
such  an  one  as  I  have  described.  Ariadne 
and  I  happened  to  be  standing  together,  and 
alone,  in  a  place  iipon  the  balcony  which 
commanded  a  view  of  our  world.  It  was 
particularly  clear  and  brilliant  that  night,  and 
you  may  imagine  with  what  feelings  I 
contemplated  it,  being  about  to  return  to 
it!  We  had  been  silent  for  some  little 
time,  when  she  turned  her  eyes  to  me  — 
those  wonderful  eyes!  —  and  said,  a  little 
sadly,  I  thought: 

"I  shall  never  look  upon  Eartli  again, 
without  happy  memories  of  your  brief  visit 
among  us." 

A  strange  impulse  seized  me,  and  I 
caught  her  hands  and  held  them  fast  in 
mine.     '■  And  I,  O,  Ai-iadne !  when  I  return 


Tllnveiltnfl  a  iparallcl.  269 

to  Earth  again,  and  lift  my  eyes  toward 
heaven,  it  will  not  be  Mars  that  I  shall 
see,  but  only  —  Ariadne !" 

A  strange  light  suddenly  flashed  over 
her  face  and  into  her  eyes  as  she  raised 
them  to  mine,  and  in  their  clear  depths  was 
revealed  to  me  the  supreme  law  of  the  imi- 
verse,  the  law  of  life,  the  law  of  love.  In  a 
voice  tremulous  with  emotion — sad,  but  not 
hopeless  —  she  murmured : 

"And  I,  also,  shall  forget  my  studies  in 
the  starry  fields  of  space  to  watch  foi-  your 
far-distant  planet — the  Earth- — which  shall 
forever  touch  all  others  with  its  glory." 

And  there,  nnder  the  stars,  with  the 
plaintive  music  of  the  Eudosa  in  our  ears, 
and  seeing  dimly  through  the  darkness  the 
white  finger  of  the  snowy  peaks  pointing 
upward,  we  looked  into  each  other's  eyes 
and — "I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth." 


The  End. 


^-T    ^ 


Fiviii  the  Press  of  the  Arena  PuUishing  Company. 


The  Rise  of  the  Swiss  Republic. 

By  W.  D.  McCrackan,  a.  M. 

It  contains  over  four  hundred  pages,  printed  from  new  and  handsome 
type,  on  a  fine  quality  of  heavy  paper.  The  margins  are  wide,  and  the 
volume  is  riciily  bound  in  cloth. 

Price,  postpaid,  $3.00. 

Sultan  to  Sultan. 

By  M.  French-Sheldon  (Bebe  Bwana). 

Being  a  thrilling  account  of  a  remarkable  expedition  to  the  Masai  and 
other  hostile  tribes  of  East  Africa,  which  was  planned  and  commanded 
bythis  intrepid  woman.  A  Sumptuous  Volume  of  Travels. 
Handsomely  illustrated;  printed  on  coated  paper  and  richly  bound  in 
African  red  silk-fmished  cloth. 

Price,  postpaid,  ;^5.00. 

The  League  of  the  Iroquois. 

By  Benjamin  Hathaway. 

It  is  instinct  with  good  taste  and  poetic  feeling,  affluent  of  pictur- 
esque description  and  graceful  portraiture,  and  its  versification  is  fairly 
melodious.  —  Harper  s  CMaga{ine. 

Has  the  charm  of  Longfellow's  "Hiawatha."  —  ^Ibauv  Hvemnv 
yonrnal. 

Of  rare  excellence  and  beauty.  — ,/imerican  IVeshyan. 

Evinces  fine  qualities  of  imagination,  and  is  distinguished  by  re- 
markable grace  and  fluency.  —Boston  Ga^eite. 

The  publication  of  this  poem  alone  may  well  serve  as  a  mile-post  in 
marking  the  pathway  of  American  literature.  The  work  is  a  marvel 
of  legendary  lore,  and  will  be  appreciated  by  every  earnest  reader.  — 
'Boston  Times. 

Price,  postpaid,  cloth,  $1.00;  Red  Line  edition,  $1.50. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon   receipt  of 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing   Company, 

Copley  5quare,  B05T0N,    A\ASS. 


IMM 


rom  the  Press  of  the  Arena  Publishing  Company, 


COPLEY  SQUARE  SERIES. 


I. 


Bond-Holders  and  Bread-Winners. 

By  S.  S.  King,  Esq.,  Kansas  City,  Kansas.  The  most  power< 
ful  book  of  the  year.  Its  argument  is  irresistible.  You  should 
read  it. 

President  L.  L.  Polk,  National  F.  A.  and  I.  U.,  says :   "It  should  be 
placed  in  the  hands  of  every  voter  of  this  country." 

Price,  postpaid,  25  cents;  per  hundred,  ;$12.50. 


!!.     Money,  Land,  and  Transportation. 

contents: 

1.  A  New  Declaration  of  Rights.    Hamlin  Garland. 

2.  The  Farmer,  Investor,  and  the  Railway.    C.  Wood  Davis. 

3.  The  Independent  Party  and  Money  at  Cost.    R.  B.  Hassell. 

Price,  single  copy,  25  cents;  per  hundred,  $10. 


III. 


The  Triple  Demand  of 


Industrial    Freedom. 
Labor. 

contents: 
1.    The  Money  Question.    Hon.  John  Davis. 

2.  The  Sub-Treasury  Plan.    C.C.Post. 

3.  The  Railroad  Problem.  C.  Wood  Davis  and  Ex-Gov. Lionel  A.Sheldon. 

Price,  single  copy,  25  cents;  per  hundred,  ;^10. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon  receipt  of 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing  Company, 

Copley   Square,  B05T0N,    A\ASS. 


From  the  Press  of  the  Arena  Publishing  Company. 


COPLEY   5QUARE   SERIES  — Continued. 


3V.     Esau  ;  or,  The  Banker's  Victim. 

"  Esau  "  is  the  title  of  a  new  boolc  by  Dr.  T.  A.  Bland.     It  is  a  polit- 
ical novel  of  purpose  and  power.     As  a  romance  it  is  fascinating;  as 
a  history  of  a  mortgage  it  is  tragic;  and  as  an  impose  of  the  financial 
policy  of  the  old  parties  it  is  clear  and  forcible.     It  is  a  timely  and  val 
uable  campaign  book. 

Price,  single  copy,  2  5  cents ;  per  hundred,  ^12.50. 
V.     The  People's  Cause. 

contents: 

1 .  The  Threefold  Contention  of  Industry. 

Gen.  J.  B.  Weaver^  Presidential  Nominee  of  People' s  Party, 

2.  The  Negro  Question  in  the  South. 

Hon.  Titos.  E.  Watson,  Af.  C.  front  Georgia. 

3.  The  Menace  of  Plutocracy.    B.O.  Flower,  Editor  of  "■  The  Arena." 

4.  The  Communism  of  Capital.    Hon.  John  Davis,  M.C.  from  Kansas. 

5.  The   Pending   Presidential  Campaign.     Hon.  J.  H.  Kyle,  State 

Senator  frotn  South  Dakota;   Thos.  E.  Wat  son,  M.  C.front  Georgia. 

Price,  25  cents  a  copy ;  per  hundred,  $10. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon  receipt  of 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing  Company, 

Copley  Square,  BOTTOM,  A\ASS. 


From  the  Press  of  the  Arena  Publishing  Company. 


Salome   Shepard,    Reformer. 

By  Helen  M.  Winslow.     A  New  England  story, 
paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 


Price 


The   Law  of  Laws. 

By  S.   B.  Wait.      The  author  takes  advance  metaphysical 
grounds  on  the  origin,  nature,  and  destiny  of  the  soul. 

"  It  is  offered  as  a  contribution  to  the  thought  of  that  unnumbered 
fraternity  of  spirit  whose  members  are  found  wherever  souls  are  sen- 
sitive to  the  impact  of  the  truth  and  feel  another's  burden  as  their 
own." — Aulho/s  Preface. 

256  pages;  handsome  cloth.     Price,  postpaid,  ^1.50. 


Life.     A  Novel. 

By  William  W.  Wheeler. 
■cover  to  cover. 


A  book  of  thrilling  interest  from 


In  the  form  of  a  novel  called  "  Life,"  William  W.  Wheeler  has  put 
before  the  public  some  of  the  clearest  statements  of  logical  ideas 
regarding  humanity's  present  aspects,  its  inherent  and  manifest 
powers,  and  its  future,  that  we  have  ever  read.  The  book  is  strong, 
keen,  powerful ;  running  over  with  thought,  so  expressed  as  to  clearly 
conveythe  author's  ideas;  everything  is  to  the  point,  nothing  super- 
fluous—and for  this  it  is  specially  admirable. —  The  'Boston  Times. 

Price:  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon  receipt  of 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing  Company, 


Copley  Square, 


BOSTON,  n/VSS. 


From  the  Press  of  the  Arena  Piibllsblng  Company. 


Along  Shore  with  a  Man  of  War. 

By  Marguerite  Dickins.  A  delightful  story  of  travel,  de- 
lightfully told,  handsomely  illustrated,  and  beautifully  bound. 
Price,  postpaid,  ^1.50. 

Evolution. 

Popular  lectures  by  leading  thinkers,  delivered  before  the 
Brooklyn  Ethical  Association.  This  work  is  of  inestimable 
value  to  the  general  reader  who  is  interested  in  Evolution  as 
applied  to  religious,  scientific,  and  social  themes.  It  is  the  joint 
work  of  a  number  of  the  foremost  thinkers  in  America  to-day. 
One  volume,  handsome  cloth,  illustrated,  complete  index. 
408  pp.     Price,  postpaid,  $2.00. 

Sociology. 

Popular  lectures  by  eminent  thinkers,  delivered  before  the 
Brooklyn  Ethical  Association.  This  work  is  a  companion 
volume  to  "Evolution,"  and  presents  the  best  thought  of 
representative  thinkers  on  social  evolution.  One  volume, 
handsome  cloth,  with  diagram  and  complete  index.  412  pp. 
Price,  postpaid,  $2.00. 


For  sale  hy  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon  receipt  of 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing   Company, 
Copley  5quar^,  B05T0N,  n/l55. 


From  the  Press  of  the  Arena  Piihlishiug  Company. 


The  Dream  Child. 

A  fascinating  romance  of  two  worlds.  By  Florence  Hunt- 
ley.    Price:  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  ^1.00. 

A  Mute  Confessor. 

The  romance  of  a  Southern  town.  By  Will  N.  Harben, 
author  of  "  White  Marie,"  "Almost  Persuaded,"  etc.  Price: 
paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 

Redbank;   Life  on  a    Southern  Plantation. 

By  M.  L.  CowLES.  A  typical  Southern  story  by  a  Southern 
woman.     Price:  paper,  00;  cloth,  $1.00. 

Psychics.     Facts  and  Theories. 

By  Rev.  Minot  J.  Savage.  A  thoughtful  discussion  of 
Psychical  problems.     Price:  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 

Civilization's  Inferno:  studies  in  the  Social  Cellar. 
By  B.  O.  Flower.  I.  Introductory  chapter.  II.  Society's 
Exiles.  III.  Two  Hours  in  the  Social  Cellar.  IV.  The 
Democracy  of  Darkness.  V.  Why  the  Ishmaelites  Multiply. 
VI.  The  Froth  and  the  Dregs.  VII.  A  Pilgrimage  and  a 
Vision.  VIII.  Some  Facts  and  a  Question.  IX.  What  of  the 
Morrow?     Price:  paper,  50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon  receipt  of 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing  Company, 

Copley  Squz^rc,  BOSTON?  ^\ASS. 


From  the  Press  of  the  Arena  Publishing  Company. 


Is  This  Your  Son,  My  Lord? 

By  Helen  H.  Gardener.  Tlie  most  powerful  novel  written 
by  an  American.  A  terrible  expose  of  conventional  immorality 
and  hypocrisy.     Price:  paper,  50  cents;  clotli,  $1.00. 

Pray  You,  Sir,  Whose  Daughter  ? 

By  Helen  H.  Gardener.  A  brilliant  novel  of  to-day,  deal- 
ing with  social  purity  and  the  "age  of  consent"  laws.  Price  : 
paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  ;^1.00. 

A  Spoil  of  Office. 

A  novel.  By  Hamlin  Garland.  The  truest  picture  of 
Western  life  that  has  appeared  in  American  fiction.  Price: 
paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 

Lessons  Learned  from  Other  Lives. 
By  B.  O.  Flower. 

There  are  fourteen  biographies  in  this  volume,  dealing  with  the  lives 
of  Seneca  and  Epictetus,  the  great  Roman  philosophers ;  Joan  of  Arc, 
the  warrior  maid;  Henry  Clay,  the  statesman;  Edwin  Booth  and 
Joseph  Jetferson,  the  actors ;  John  Howard  Payne,  William  Cullen 
Bryant,  Edgar  Allan  Poe,  Alice  and  Phoebe  Gary,  and  John  G.  Whittier, 
the  poets ;  Alfred  Russell  Wallace,  the  scientist ;  Victor  Hugo,  the  many- 
sided  man  of  genius. 

"The  book  sparkles  with  literary  jewels."  —  Christian  Leader,  Gin- 
cinnati,  Ohio. 

Price:  paper,  50  cents;  cloth.  $1.00. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon  receipt  of 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing   Company, 


Copley  Square, 


BOSTON,  A\ASS. 


Front  the  Press  of  the  Arena  Publishing  Company. 


Songs. 

By  Neith  Boyce.  Illustrated  with  original  drawings  by 
Ethelwyn  Wells  Conrey.  A  beautiful  gift  book.  Bound 
in  white  and  gold.     Price,  postpaid,  $1.25. 

The  Finished  Creation,  and  Other  Poems. 

By  Benjamin  Hathaway,  author  of  "  The  League  of  the 
Iroquois,"  "  Art  Life,"  and  other  Poems.  Handsomely 
bound  in  white  parchment  vellum,  stamped  in  silver.  Price, 
postpaid,  $1.25. 

Wit  and  Humor  of  the  Bible. 

By  Rev.  Marion  D.  Shutter,  D.D.  A  brilliant  and  reverent 
treatise.     Published  only  in  cloth.     Price,  postpaid,  $1.50. 

Son  of  Man;   or,  Sequel  to  Evolution. 

By  Celestia  Root  Lang.     Published  only  in  cloth. 

This  work,  in  many  respects,  very  remarkably  discusses  the  next 
step  in  the  Evolution  of  Man.  It  is  in  perfect  touch  with  advanced 
Christian  Evolutionary  thought,  but  takes  a  step  beyond  the  present 
position  of  Religion  Leaders. 

Price,  postpaid,  $1.25. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon  receipt  of 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing  Company, 


Coplcv  Square, 


BOSTON,  A\/\SS. 


OOP 


a 


From  the  Tress  of  the  Arena  Tublisbing  Company. 


Jason   Edwards:    An  Average  Man. 

By  Hamlin  Garland.  A  powerful  and  realistic  story  of 
to-day.     Price:  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 

Who  Lies?     An  interrogation. 

By  Blum  and  Alexander.  A  boolc  tliat  is  well  worth  read- 
ing.     Price:  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 

Main  Travelled  Roads. 

Six  Mississippi  Valley  stories.    By  Hamlin  Garland, 

"  The  sturdy  spirit  of  true  democracy  runs  through  this  book." — 
Review  of  Reviews. 

Price:  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 

Irrepressible    Conflict    Between    Two  World- 
Theories. 

By  Rev.  MiNOT  J.  SAVAGE.  The  most  powerful  presentation 
of  Theistic  Evolution  versus  Orthodoxy  that  has  ever  ap- 
peared.    Price:  paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 


For  sale  hy  all  booksellers.     Sent  postpaid  upon   receipt  oj 
the  price. 

Arena   Publishing  Company, 

Copley  5qu2ir^,  B05T0M,  t\fKSS, 


js/vv 


^\v*    ^.*s-    ^